


Escape the Night

by nanaisms (sanhascroissant)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Based off a completed Interactive AU on Twitter, Demon Summoning, Escape, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Horror, Inspired by Escape the Night, M/M, Psychological Horror, Puzzles, Treachery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanhascroissant/pseuds/nanaisms
Summary: In a house on a hill in the year 1920, seven young men gather for a seemingly innocent dinner party. Fate has other plans.(Or; Mark Lee never meant for any of this to happen.)
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. PART ONE.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to Escape the Night with NCT!
> 
> This fic was written for an Interactive AU that i ran on twitter! If you'd like to see the thread and all the clues, you can click right [HERE!!!!](https://twitter.com/escapenct/status/1269156587874086912?s=20) and check it out over there!
> 
> I'm posting it here because man, if I'm going to write 22k in a week, I may as well have it in a medium where i can actually go back and edit my typos.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Love,  
> Robin

**WEEKS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

_Dark, so dark… hungry, cold… I want to feast. Let me feast, or it will be you that I consume next._

_Patience, my lord._ His voice does not shake. His most loyal servant, his longest companion, his subordinate and his master _. They are coming._

The darkness settles, and lies in wait. It purrs. _They are coming._

* * *

**MARK LEE**  
_invites you to a dinner party in celebration of_  
_the acquisition of his new property._

DEAR FRIEND,

I have recently acquired a house from a distant cousin, twice removed. It is my hope that you will join me there for a marvelous dinner party beyond your wildest dreams.

To fit in with the feeling of the house, the party will be themed, set in the 1920s. I have included on the back of this invitation your unique role and character to play. Please RSVP at your earliest convenience.

Your Friend,

MARK LEE

* * *

“Jaemin!” He turned, and Donghyuck stood there, grinning. “What are you doing here?”

“Mark suddenly gets rich, and you think I’m not going to try to mooch off of him?” Jaemin snorted, trying to play up his role as the hustler. “Uh, hello, it’s kind of what I do.”

“How low class of you,” Renjun said from beside him, raising a disapproving eyebrow. Jaemin choked back a laugh. He was a great actor — every inch the stiff professor.

“That’s showbiz, Huang,” Donghyuck said cheerily. Behind him, the door swings open again to admit Lee Jeno, eyes wide and suit crisp.

“Did I get the right house? The chauffeurs can be so incompetent these days you know.” Jeno tried his best to be the spoiled heir, but it came off awkward, and they all couldn't help but laugh.

“I don’t think this is the role for you, Jen,” Donghyuck said sympathetically, patting him on the arm.

“Oh well.” Jeno shrugged. “I tried for Mark. How are you guys?”

The trip to the house on the hill had been relatively smooth, though it had been rather unnerving. Jaemin had dressed in period-typical garments and slid into the backseat of the car Mark had sent. They had barely driven at all — only ten minutes or so — before they pulled off the main road, down a winding gravel path up in front of a mansion that Jaemin was fairly sure hadn’t been visible from the front as they had approached. 

Before he could think about it for too long, Chenle and Jisung arrived, wide smiles and warm welcomes in tow, and they all stood together in the hallway, waiting for the arrival of the new homeowner himself. They didn't have to wait long.

“Everybody!” Mark descended the stairs, standing with his arms open. “Welcome to my new house!” They all cheer, and Mark grinned bashfully. “Well, it’s not mine just yet. I haven’t signed the deed. But it will be tomorrow when the solicitor brings it over! I figured why not have a party, like old times?” Mark grinned wide, open and warm, and gestured to the side. “And here’s my butler, Lee Taeyong, and the housekeeper, Jung Jaehyun. They’ve worked at the house for forever, and they’re here to help get the party running smoothly. So, that having been said… Drinks?”

They all cheered and headed into the dining room and lounge, spreading out to play 1920s themed games like darts and cards. Jaehyun roamed about the room passing out drinks before retreating upstairs. Jaemin frowned. Upstairs? Why go upstairs? He was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to explore, to see more of this great grand house. He sidled up to Mark, who was playing darts with Donghyuck.

“Hey, Mark?”

“Oh, hey Jaemin. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to ask — can we take a look around?”

Mark immediately frowned. “Uh, no. I don’t think it’s a good idea… Let’s just stick to the ground floor for now, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Jaemin said, backing away. Yeah, no. No way he’s just going to listen to Mark. It was already weird that he got this massive house from some cousin or whatever. What else was he hiding? He scanned the room, searching for a partner to convince to take with him. Jisung sat alone in the corner, examining a book from one of Mark’s many bookshelves. On the other side of the room, Renjun swirled a drink in his hand, looking bored. After a moment's hesitation, Jaemin decides to try Jisung.

“Psst. Hey, Jisung.” Jisung looked up from his book, eyes wide. Jaemin beckoned him over, grinning. “Hey. You wanna explore?”

“But Mark said to stay on the ground floor?” Jisung looked nervous, fiddling with the pages of his book. Jaemin sighed, put-upon.

“Come on Jisung, you’re the _journalist_. He can’t give you that kind of role and expect you not to play it.” Jisung frowned, but he put his book aside. Jaemin beamed. “Yes! Let’s head up the stairs first, I saw Jaehyun go up by himself a while ago.”

They snuck towards the stairs, snickering to themselves as they went, muttering under their breaths about how strange it was that Mark got this house out of nowhere.

They reached the top landing, and Jaemin froze. Behind him, Jisung stopped abruptly. “What? Jaemin, what’s wrong?”

“Shhh!” Jaemin hushed him, pointing to the end of the hallway where a pair of shoes were just disappearing from sight around the corner. Jaemin felt Jisung suck in a breath behind him, horrified, but before either of them could move, Jaehyun emerged from around the corner, stern and unimpressed.

“I think you should go back downstairs,” he said, impassive. Jaemin felt lightheaded. There was a smudge of blood on Jaehyun’s cheekbone. “The dinner is ready,” Jaehyun said, eyes fixed directly on Jaemin. “Go downstairs, now.”

They do.

* * *

The dinner was lovely, but Jaemin and Jisung couldn't enjoy it, making eye contact across the table and then looking away, horrified at what they had seen. To the side, Jaehyun stood straight, the blood gone from his cheek, like nothing had ever happened. Mark sat at the head of the table, a glass of champagne in his hand as he toasted them.

Donghyuck nudged Jaemin in the side. “What the heck were you and Jisung doing for so long?”

“I was in the bathroom,” Jaemin lied, throat dry. Donghyuck scoffed.

“Yeah, sure. And I’m an eight-legged horse with a law degree.” Jaemin stared at him. He shrugged. “Most ridiculous thing I could think of.”

Before Jaemin could answer, Taeyong approached him with a telegram. The whole table turned their attention on him, asking laughingly who it was from. Jaemin blanched, his eyes widening, and without warning, he began to cough, blood spewing from his mouth and staining the pure white table cloth blood red.

The table exploded into chaos.

Mark helped ease Jaemin onto the floor where he lay coughing weakly, gesturing towards his jacket pocket. “Letter… inside… read… it,” he gasped. Mark fumbled for it, and sure enough, inside there was a letter.

The rest of the guests were panicking, loud voices echoing through the dining room, and Mark had to scream to get their attention as he read the letter.

_Dearest Friends —_

_If you are reading this, then I have either died or am quite near it. It means that I have failed, and I have things I need to tell you all so that you have a chance._

_This house is not safe for any of us. It in fact is home to a great evil, curated by decades of bloodshed. The house itself is alive, and it is hungry. We’re the full course meal._

_I am a member of a secret society known as the Society Against Evil. My plan in coming here tonight was to vanquish the evil once and for all by setting free the spirits of the first five owners of the house and binding the evil with the help of a man known only as The Guardian, who I was assured would be revealed after all five owners were freed. This must all be done before sunrise, or all is lost — we will be trapped inside this house forever._

_We’re far from any help. I know that this is only supposed to be a themed 1920s party, but it really is the 1920s, and unless we get out of this house before sunrise, we’ll stay trapped in this era. If you don’t believe me, check for your phones. They should have vanished. They don’t exist in this time period._

_The first of the five owners resides in the greenhouse. If I am truly dead, Godspeed, my six closest friends. Be careful — there is a traitor among us. Do not allow the house to trick you. There is always a way out._

_Do me proud. Love,_

_Na Jaemin_

In the meantime, Renjun read the telegram.

**NA JAEMIN. WE KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE. YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED. YOU ARE POISONED. IF YOU WANT TO LIVE YOUR FRIENDS MUST FIND THE ANTIDOTE HIDDEN ON THE FIRST FLOOR OF THE HOUSE. THREE PUZZLES, THREE VIALS, AND ALL MUST BE CONSUMED FOR YOU TO BE SAFE. YOU HAVE THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE THE POISON REACHES YOUR HEART AND STOPS IT. WE HOPE YOU DIE IN AGONY.**

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS,” Renjun bellowed, and the anxious chatter that broke out after the reading of the letter was silenced at once. “We can still save him, but we have to split up. There are three main rooms on the ground floor, and I’d be willing to bet a vial is hidden in each one. We have to split up.

Mark and Jeno were already beside each other, as well as Chenle and Donghyuck, leaving Renjun with Jisung. The three teams split up; Renjun and Jisung to search the library, Donghyuck and Chenle to the lounge, and Mark and Jeno remained in the dining room.

* * *

Donghyuck and Chenle went to search the lounge, but they found nothing. From the dining room, they could hear Taeyong’s desperate cries from where he knelt beside Jaemin, watching his pocket watch as the time slipped away.

The only clue they had was an old, yellowed piece of paper reading, _“search the highest mountain tops, avoid the rushing river. the key lies between.”_

“Oh, yeah, really helpful,” Donghyuck groaned when he read it for the first time. But now he skimmed it desperately as Chenle took books off the shelves and ran his fingers beneath couch cushions.

“This isn’t working,” Donghyuck groaned. He looked around the room. Old, chintz armchairs lined the walls, accompanied by a grand wooden desk, a large globe placed atop it. The wall was hung with paintings of all kinds of landscapes — a field at sunrise, a towering mountain range above a canyon, a herd of horses galloping across a plain into battle,

Chenle’s fists were clenched, brow furrowed in frustration, and Taeyong called out, “Five minutes! Please, please, _hurry!”_

Suddenly, Donghyuck gasped. “The painting!”

“No,” Chenle said, frustrated. “It has to be in the globe, between the highest mountain range and the nearest river!”

“Two minutes!” Taeyong sounded desperate. The other groups returned long ago. Chenle and Donghyuck met eyes, both coming to the same realization. They only had the time to search one.

Chenle groaned. “All right, the painting!”

They rushed across the room, and Chenle immediately began to run his fingers along the edge of the painting, searching for a way to get it off the wall. In the meantime, Donghyuck ran his fingers down the painting until right there, where the river met the tree line below the mountains, there was a small bump.

“It’s here! Chenle, it’s right here!” Donghyuck cried, and with a single, fluid motion, he ripped the painting apart, grabbing the final vial of antidote.

They rushed back into the dining room, where Taeyong was still fretting over Jaemin. He looked up and immediately reached out for the antidote. Donghyuck handed it over at once.

As Taeyong forced it down Jaemin’s throat, Mark grabbed Donghyuck’s arm, pulling him aside.

“What took you all so long? Jeno and I found our clue in a few minutes! Are you trying to get Jaemin killed?” Mark’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and Donghyuck ripped his arm out of Mark’s grip.

“You think I want him to die? Shut the fuck up, Mark, the clue was fucking difficult. How did you solve it so quickly? It’s _your_ house, you’re obviously in league with the evil!”

Mark opened his mouth to retaliate, but before he got a chance, Jaemin was coughing and beginning to sit up with Taeyong’s help. His eyes were wide and shining.

“You did it,” he said, voice raspy with poison. Jisung and Renjun helped him stand, but he waved them off. “There’s no time to waste. We only have until sunrise, so let’s get to the greenhouse.”

“Don’t you have any more information to help us here?’ Jeno asked, voice a bit shaky. “What, we’re just in a murder house that you know nothing about?”

“Pretty much,” Jaemin said tersely. “I’m a pretty new member of the society, but even I can tell that we underestimated the house. Not even an hour, and I’ve already been poisoned. Now, come on. Mark, take us to the greenhouse. We haven’t got any time to waste.”

Mark hesitated. “But what about the traitor…?”

“It doesn’t matter for right now,” Jaemin argued. “What matters is that we don’t have a lot of time. If we’re still in the house when the sun rises, we’ll be trapped here forever. A blame game will only slow us down.”

They looked around at one another, eyes narrowed, but Jaemin was right, so they let the subject drop and followed Mark to the greenhouse.

The greenhouse sat on the outskirts of the estate, and to get there they had to walk through the gardens. Jeno was sure that in the daytime, they looked lovely, but with the knowledge that they were haunted by a great evil that was out to kill them all, they were eerie. Jeno shivered.

Mark opened the door to the greenhouse, and billows of steam emerged. They filed inside, and were greeted by a man sitting serenely on a stool. On the ground by his feet a circle pulsed red, surrounded by strange symbols. Chenle took a step forward and immediately shuddered, stepping back.

“That thing feels… wrong,” he said.

“Ah, it does, doesn’t it?” The man mused, fiddling with something on the garden bench. “I’ve tried a lot of things, but I can’t seem to break it. Must be the house!” He beamed.

Jeno stared at him. “You’re insane,” he said.

“Oh, yes, certainly,” the man agreed. “Now, are you going to help me?”


	2. PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim Jungwoo, The Mad Botanist.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

The man muttered as he flew around the greenhouse, determined. “Nearly there, nearly there…”

_I will help you. But you must hurry… I am hungry._

“Yes, yes, I know, I know.” The man threw a few more ingredients into the mixture. It hissed, and turned green. “Yes! It is complete.”

_Good. Bring it, and use it to save them all._

“Jungwoo, what’s the occasion?”

He just smiled. “Let’s talk over dinner! I’ve got exciting news!”

They all filed into the dining room, chatting together as they took their seats and the meal was served.

They ate merrily, and finally, the first man spoke up again. “So, Jungwoo, tell us! Have you achieved it?”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you. After years of research, I have found the formula for the elixir of life, and developed it. And friends, we must rejoice! Because I have put it in the meal tonight. We are going to live together forever, as friends!”

Suddenly, silence fell, and at the other end of the table, a young woman dropped her wineglass, her hands coming to her throat as she gasped for air.

Jungwoo gasped, horrified, as each guest fell to the floor one by one, the breath leaving their bodies. 

Jungwoo stood, staggering backwards, his vision going black. Pain bloomed in his chest, and he fell to the ground, choking.

_Thank you… My hunger… it is sated…_

The house had not given him the elixir of life, but a deadly poison.

And so Kim Jungwoo was driven mad with guilt by his own estate, doomed to be trapped forever in the greenhouse surrounded by the ingredients to the antidote, but never able to create it.

* * *

“You see,” Jungwoo said, eye twitching, “If I could just leave this circle…” He stood, but before he could leave the circle, it flashed red and he staggered backwards, howling in pain. The pleasant smile on his face was replaced by a horrible, crazed glare, and he screamed.

It echoed through the greenhouse, making them all flinch backwards in pain. Jungwoo snarled once more, and suddenly all traces of anger vanished, replaced again by his placid smile. Behind his eyes there lurked uncontrollable madness, but he just smiled a tad bit wider and said,

“Now, if you nice young gentlemen could just bring me the antidote, I can absolve myself of guilt and leave this horrid place.”

“We don’t have the antidote,” Jisung said.

“What he means,” Jaemin said, glaring at Jisung, “Is that we don’t have the antidote _yet._ So, just tell us the ingredients and we can make it for you.”

“Ah!” Jungwoo brightened. “The recipe is in my book! It should be on my workbench. It should be over beside the calla lilies. Good luck!”

Sure enough, the book was right where he said it would be, on the same shelf as the lilies. Mark read the recipe aloud.

_Bloody fingers, eye of newt,  
_ _Dew of Sea, and Rabbit’s foot.  
_ _These four factors must you find,  
_ _To release the master from his bind.  
_ _Hurry now, you must be quick —  
_ _The darkness gathers fast and thick._

“That’s a terrible recipe.” Donghyuck was absolutely unimpressed. “Another fucking riddle. And none of these ingredients are actual ingredients. They’re just… Fancy names used for folklore witch potions. Aren’t they?”

“Maybe not,” Renjun said. “Look around, try to find a botany book of some kind. This mansion exists outside of time. For all we know, Jungwoo could be from the 13th century, and these are names of plants growing right in front of our faces.”

“I knew there was a reason I made you the professor,” Mark said, relieved. “But should we split up, or go together?”

“Split up, obviously, we’ll cover more ground,” Jaemin said.

“No way!” Jeno frowned. “Things are creepy enough, I don’t want us to split up.”

“I’m sorry, Jeno, but we have to,” Jaemin looked genuinely sorry. “The greenhouse is massive, and we don’t have much time.”

Jeno groaned. “Fine. But if one of us gets stabbed to death in this creepy place I will _kill_ you.” He froze. “Not actually. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I have to clarify that now.”

They split up, and Jeno wandered the aisles, greenery on all sides. He found very little — just more plants. Still, the air was cold and his hands were clammy and just… god, he hated this.

It ended when he heard Mark cry out, “Here! Guys, it’s over here!”

He rushed towards the voice, and Mark stood, a massive book titled _Encyclopaedia of Plantes of All Kindes_ in his hands.

“Renjun was right, they’re all old plant names,” he said once they were all gathered together again. “We just have to gather them and bring them back to him, and then he’ll be able to make the antidote, right?”

“Sounds about right,” Donghyuck muttered. Renjun nodded.

“Okay, then,” Jaemin said. “I think it’s best if we split off into groups again. One person will have to go alone.”

“I will,” Mark said, raising one hand miserably. “It’s my stupid house and it’s my fault you’re all stuck here, so I’ll take the risk.”

“Okay,” Renjun nodded. “Then Donghyuck and I will go together, Chenle and Jisung are together, Jeno and Jaemin can be together, and that leaves Mark on his own. Everyone good?” They all nod.

“Okay, good.” Jeno's voice only a little bit higher than usual. “It’s great. Let’s go, shall we? The faster we find them the faster we get to leave the stupid cursed place, right? Right.”

They split up.

* * *

“Dew of the Sea…” Jaemin scanned the page of the Encyclopaedia until he found it. “Rosemary. Let’s go.”

He and Jeno left together, looking everywhere for Rosemary as they went, but with little success.

“Jaemin?”

“Yes, Jeno?”

“Why did you join a Society to Fight Against Evil in the first place?”

Jaemin snorted, pushing a long leafy branch to the side before letting it fall back again. “It was something I was recruited for, actually. The Society has been watching this estate for centuries. When they realized it had fallen into a new owner’s hands, they recruited me because I was the one of Mark’s friends that they knew the most about.”

“Oh,” Jeno said. “Then… What did they tell you about the house?”

“Not much more than what I told all of you,” Jaemin said honestly. “They don’t know much because nobody has ever survived the trip back from here. They just know its pattern: It chooses new owners that it thinks will be successful in luring others here. The house tricks them, one way or another. The owners always end up dead, their spirits trapped here forever, most driven at least a bit mad with grief and regret. When they made contact, I’d already gotten Mark’s invitation. I don’t want to see him or any of you meet the same fate, so of course I agreed to come.”

“Ah, here it is!” Jaemin grinned, and reaching over, plucked a sprig of Rosemary.

“Good thing, too,” Jeno said nervously. “The faster we get this done, the better.” Jaemin nodded in agreement, and they turned back, returning to where Jungwoo sat, trapped.

The others had already returned, all with ingredients in hand. The anxiety was clear on everyone’s faces.

“Well, here we go, the last ingredient,” Jaemin said. “Jungwoo?”

Jungwoo started, coming out of some kind of trance. “Oh! Well done!” He grinned, canines sharp in the low light. “Now all that there is left to do is to pick two among you to go to my lab and create the antidote. Freedom is so close I could almost taste it.”

“I’m sorry?” Jaemin said. “We have to go to your lab and make it?”

“Of course!” Jungwoo grinned. “Ask Taeyong, he should remember. And he and Jaehyun will help you all to vote. Remember! Only two can go, but the two chosen will face deadly peril!” He smiled, manic. “Deadly peril! How delightful! I myself have faced death, and it’s not so bad! Just very, very painful!”

* * *

They made their way back to the main house in somber silence, Jungwoo’s words weighing on them all.

“Okay, what does he mean we have to vote?” Jisung finally burst out. “We have to decide which of us go face _deadly peril?_ That’s fucked up.”

“Everything about this entire situation is fucked up, Jisung,” Donghyuck snapped. “ _This_ is where you draw the line?”

“Yes, it’s where I draw the line!” Jisung shouted back. “If we really vote, that means there’s blood on all of our hands. This house is sick. _Sick_.”

“Well, there’s no point stating the obvious,” Renjun cut in. “The question now is how are we going to vote. Which two people would be the best choice?”

“Well, you and Jaemin, obviously,” Chenle said. “You’re smart, and Jaemin’s a part of that super-secret society or whatever.

“Jaemin’s not an established member!” Jeno cut in. “He was just recruited for this. He’s no more qualified than the rest of us, really. Plus, he was _just_ poisoned! The house would love another reason to off him.”

“Fine. Renjun and Mark, then,” Donghyuck said, glaring at Mark. “It’s his stupid murder house, anyway.”

“Mark didn’t know,” Jaemin refuted. “None of the owners knew.”

“Still,” Donghyuck frowned, crossing his arms. “It’s his house, and he’s been living here for a few weeks. He’s probably got the best chance, and he’s the one most likely in league with the evil anyway.”

“I’m not!” Mark looked stricken. “I knew you guys would think it’s me. I swear it’s not me, you have to believe me.”

“Actually, we don’t have to do anything,” Chenle said, crossing his arms and going to stand beside Donghyuck.

“This blame game doesn’t help anybody!” Jeno said, finally silencing them. “Let’s all just. Go talk to Taeyong and Jaehyun. Hopefully things get a bit clearer after that.”

Grudgingly, they finally moved again, going back to the house.

Taeyong stood on the porch, pacing worriedly, Jaehyun silent and stoic at his side. He turned, and seeing them, sagged with relief.

“Thank god,” he said, rushing forwards to take Mark by the arm. “Did you find him?”

“We did, but now we have to vote people to go to his lab,” Mark said. “Jungwoo said that you and Jaehyun would know what to do.” Taeyong looked at them all, and turned white, grief stricken.

“I do,” he said, forlorn. “But it pains me. Come inside. Jaehyun, prepare the vote.”

They sat in the lounge facing the front of the room where Taeyong stood, Jaehyun at his side. “Now, this is how this works. You shall step forward one by one, and write a name on one of these slips of paper. I shall pick two at random from the hat, and those two shall face the challenge. Now, let us begin.”

One by one, they approached, wrote a name, and dropped it in the hat. Donghyuck, on his turn, said “Mark,” aloud. They all winced, Mark especially.

“Harsh,” he mumbled, looking at his hands.

The voting ended, and Taeyong pulled two names: Mark and Renjun.

“Figures,” Renjun said, standing. Mark looked down at his hands, and stood with him.

Taeyong looked at them sympathetically. “Follow me. I can take you to his lab.”

Taeyong led them through the foyer and down the stairs to the basement. “When Jungwoo was alive and sane, before the house twisted him, he used to conduct experiments down here,” Taeyong explained as he led the way. “But I don’t think anyone has been down here since then. You two will be the first.” They approached a heavy, oaken door. “Good luck,” Taeyong said, and he turned around, heading back upstairs.

Mark and Renjun met eyes. “Okay,” Renjun said, determined. “Let’s do this.” He pushed the door open.

The lab looked untouched, but a voice hissed from the walls.

_Ten minutes. I am hungry._

“Well. I fucking hate that,” Mark remarked.

Renjun, eyes wide, just swallowed and nodded. “Aren’t there supposed to be instructions somewhere?”

They searched, but the instructions were nowhere to be found.

“What do we do?” Mark hissed.

“I think we just have to mix the ingredients and hope for the best,” Renjun admitted. “We only have ten minutes before the house eats us and we die horribly. Let’s make the antidote and get out of here.”

“We can’t just make it without instructions, Renjun! We have to get some more guidance, here,” Mark said desperately. “No point making the antidote if we make it wrong.”

“You’re right,” Renjun said, frowning. “We have no choice. Keep looking!”

The house laughed, deep and eerie. Mark felt a sense of foreboding sink deep into his bones, but he shoved it away and focused on finding the instructions.

It was Renjun who found them at last — stuck to the bottom of one of the tables, of all places — and he slammed them on the table.

“Hurry, we’re almost out of time. Two minutes!” He coughed, waving away the fumes that wafted off all the boiling and bubbling potions around them.

Following the instructions carefully, Mark mixed the ingredients together in the correct order and the antidote began to come together, glowing green. “Yes!”

“Just in time.” Renjun breathed a sigh of relief. “Now let’s get the fuck out of this weird mad scientist lab. The fumes are making me dizzy.”

_Ah. That’s just the poison._

They froze in place, making horrified eye contact.

“Excuse me, _the what?”_ Mark gasped.

 _I meant ten minutes,_ the house whispered, sickeningly glee obvious in its disembodied voice. Mark’s vision began to swim.

“Well, we have the antidote!” Mark said. “So, ha!”

 _Wrong,_ the house laughed. _You have one dose of the antidote, as that is what the instructions called for._ He and Renjun looked at one another, the dreadful reality of the situation starting to sink it. _Best to decide quickly. Another thirty seconds, and you’ll both be dead._

“Mark,” Renjun gasped, his throat already closing. “Mark, listen to me. You have to take it.”

“What? Renjun, no, I can’t. It’s my fault you’re even here.”

“Maybe that’s true," Renjun acquiesced, “but I already can’t see. I don’t know what the lasting effects are. And Mark, it’s your house. If you say you created this mess, then get the others out of it.”

“But —”

“Mark, I swear to _god_ , if you don’t drink that antidote and I see you at the gates of hell, I will kill you dead again. And you’d better drink it, because I’m not going to,” Renjun said, breathing heavily. “Now _GO_.”

Renjun fell silent, chest slowing, and Mark knew it was too late. He took the antidote.

* * *

The return to the group was miserable. They looked up, eyes expectant, but when Mark walked into the room alone, they all shot up from their seats, asking question after question.

“Where’s Renjun?” “What happened?” “Do you have the antidote?”

Mark looked up at them, eyes haunted, and shook his head. Jaemin sat down, hard. Chenle and Donghyuck glared at him, going off to the side together. Jeno and Jisung looked like they were on the verge of tears.

“It should have been you,” Donghyuck spat. Mark looked up at him, eyes empty.

“I know. I tried to convince him, but it was too late.”

* * *

Jungwoo, on the other hand, was thrilled. “You mean, my antidote really saved someone?” He asked when they returned to him in the greenhouse. “Oh, that’s amazing! Wonderful! Finally, I feel some of the guilt leave me.” He took a step forward, and the circle gave way, letting him take another, and another, until he passed them all and reached the greenhouse door.

He turned, smile far more genuine than before, the madness ebbing away from his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, heartfelt. “I am finally, finally at peace.”

And then, before their very eyes, he melted away, leaving nothing but a small, leather book in his place.


	3. PART THREE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny Seo, The Lover.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

_I am hungry! Starving! Invite them!_

“You cannot get to me,” the man murmured to the walls. “I have no one left to invite.”

_FEED ME! FEED ME! FEED ME!_

“I cannot,” he said simply, gazing around the room at the hundreds of paintings that hung there. “I am completely and utterly alone.”

_I will give you anything, everything. I will give him back to you._

The man smiled. “Good attempt. But nothing, not even you, can raise the dead.”

Evening found him outside, alone. Taeyong brought him a glass of champagne and he thanked him with a smile. Who knows where Jaehyun was — likely tending to the garden. He looked out on the water, and brought his hand to his neck.

He froze. The locket. It was gone.

“The locket,” he gasped. “Where is it?” The house laughed, and his head spun. “Where is it? Where is the locket?”

The glass shattered on the concrete as he staggered back around the house in search of it. It was not in the grass. It was not in the house. It was gone, lost. The last piece of his lover — lost.

He fainted, hitting his head on stone, blood dripping into the fountain, spreading across the water and turning it pink.

 _You are wrong,_ the house laughed. _You may not be as useful as the others, but I can still take you._

And so Johnny Seo died at the young age of twenty-five.

* * *

“You guys, check this out,” Chenle picked up the book, flipping to the first page. It was labeled in swooping handwriting,

 _The Others, and what I have seen of them, by Kim Jungwoo._ _  
_ _Est. 1345_

They were all subdued after the death of Renjun, Mark especially, who clearly blamed himself. Chenle frowned around at them all.

“Is this what Renjun would have wanted?” He slammed the journal down. “No! He would want us to go out there, and fucking survive, because that’s what he would have done. Mark.” Mark jumped at being called by name. “Mark, he _died_ to save you. To save all of us. So let’s fucking work to stay alive to make sure his sacrifice isn’t in vain. We have to set this aside for right now and get out of here before sunrise. Okay?”

They avoided his eyes. Chenle glared. _“Okay?”_

There was a smattering of mumbled “okay’s, and it was enough for him.

“Alright, now listen up —”

_Johnny Seo was only twenty-five years old when he came into possession of the estate. Fresh out of the army and ready to settle down, his dreams were shattered when he learned of the death of his lover, a man known only by the name Ten, in the Great War. He retreated to the estate, where no matter how it pushed and prodded him, he refused to invite any guests._

_He sunk deeper and deeper into a never-ending depression. Eventually, he ended his own life upon discovering the loss of the last object he held dear — a locket containing a picture of his beloved. To find it, and him, you must find a way to speak to Ten, whose spirit is no longer among the land of the living._

“Oh great, so we have to conduct some sort of _séance?"_ Jeno blanched. “The demon murder house wasn’t enough? We have to get ghosts involved too?”

“At least it sounds like it’s a nice ghost?” Jisung offered.

“It’s still a _ghost!”_ Jeno cried.

“It has a name. Ten?” Donghyuck frowned. “But how do we even go about conducting a séance? I don’t know about you all, but I haven’t exactly spent my free time summoning ghosts. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“We might not,” Chenle said, “But I bet someone here will.” He turned to them. “What about Taeyong?”

“Or Jaehyun,” Mark offered hurriedly.

“Taeyong’s been a lot friendlier,” Jeno pointed out. “I think we have a better shot asking him.”

“But Jaehyun is so quiet… It’s getting suspicious at this point,” Chenle argued. “Maybe by asking him directly we can get more answers.”

“Okay,” Jeno acquiesced. “You’re right. He’s been really creepy this whole time, so we should really ask Jaehyun. Make him say something.”

“Guys, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Jaemin said.

“What?” Donghyuck frowns. “Why not?”

“Well."Jaemin looks to Jisung. "Earlier this evening when Jisung and I went off on our own, we saw something.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us before now?” Mark asked, skeptical.

“We were a little busy!” Jaemin snapped. They all fall silent at that, looking away, ashamed. “Anyway…” He quickly related what they had seen with help from Jisung, and at the end of it, they all look a little green.

“Okay, so avoid Jaehyun? Can we all agree talking to Jaehyun is probably not a good idea?” Jeno asked.

“Yeah, we can agree on that,” Chenle said. “But we should still do it. We’ve learned that playing by the rules will only get us all killed. It’s time to take a risk and try to get ahead.”

Donghyuck nodded, resolute. “It’s a murder house. If we’re going to die anyway, it’s worth taking the risk to get more information.”

They make their way to the foyer, leaving Mark behind to distract Taeyong, who had been hovering ever since he returned from the room without Renjun.

After a minute of heated whispered debate, Jisung was the one selected to go ask him about the séance. Jisung approached him, doing his best to act natural.

“So, Jaehyun, do you know anything about how to conduct a séance?” Jisung asked, shuffling in front of him. Jaehyun smiled, and nodded.

“Sure thing,” he said. “I’ve seen a few in my time. Do you have anything that the deceased owned? We’ll need something like that in order to proceed.”

Jisung glanced over his shoulder at his friends. He smiled encouragingly, and they all approached. Suddenly, Jaehyun tensed, just slightly. “Ah, Taeyong. The kids are trying to start the séance.”

“Oh, of course!” Taeyong fretted, approaching. Jaehyun took a step back, and Chenle and Jisung frowned at one another. _So close._ “Do you have something of the person you are trying to summon?”

“Um…” Jisung shook his head. “I don’t think so…”

“Who is it?” Taeyong asked. “I assume they must have lived in the house. I might know where you can find some of their belongings.”

“Ten,” Chenle told him. Taeyong frownd, looking at him blankly. “Johnny Seo’s lover,” he hastened to add, and Taeyong’s expression cleared.

“Oh! Of course. I have plenty of Ten’s paintings. Johnny brought them to the estate, and they haven’t moved since. I’m afraid that’s really all that’s left of him here — from what Johnny told me of him, Chittaphon — I mean to say, _Ten_ , was dead before Johnny ever came to live here. I never met him personally.”

Taeyong pushed open the door to the lounge, and the same paintings that Chenle and Donghyuck had been scanning for the vial of antidote mere hours before now carried new weight. These were a man’s life work — and now they were all that was left of him.

“So we need one of these paintings in order to summon Ten’s spirit back for the séance?” Jeno asked. “Like, just to be clear and all.”

“Yes,” Taeyong said. “It’s important that you find the painting of most importance to him; as it will contain more of his spirit, and ease his calling back. Spirit callings are delicate — without the right painting, all will be lost. Choose carefully,” he warned. “In the meantime, Jaehyun and I will prepare the circle of purified salt.” With that, he left them alone in the room, the walls full of paintings.

It was Donghyuck who eventually found a letter hidden in one of the many drawers in the desk written in Ten’s handwriting to Johnny that told them Ten’s favorite painting was the one of sunflowers. Jeno took it down from the wall and they returned to the foyer, where Taeyong and Jaehyun had constructed a triangle encased in a circle of purified salt. Around the circle, equal distances apart, were candles, flickering in the dark.

“You found the painting?” Taeyong asked, and they nodde. “Good. Now, place it at the head of the circle, the third point of the triangle, and take your places in front of each candle.”

They did so, and Taeyong said, “Good. Now, someone must be the voice of the spirit, and allow Ten to speak through them. Jaehyun has volunteered for this task.” Jaehyun moved and knelt in the center of the triangle, hands held outward on either side of him.

“Now I shall read the invocation, and all of you should repeat after me,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun’s eyes fluttered close.

 _Chittaphon Leechiayapornkul, you who lived yesterday.  
_ _Hear these words, hear our cry.  
_ _We seek your guidance in recovering your long lost locket, to free your lover from his torment.  
_ _Cross now the great divide and show yourself here._

For a long moment, there was complete silence, and then the candles began to flicker.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Mark muttered.

Suddenly, Jaehyun straightened, eyes opening, irises turned milky white. Everyone flinched back, and someone let out a half-stifled scream.

 **I am here.** The voice that left Jaehyun’s mouth was his, but there was someone else; like two voices speaking together. **My name is Ten, and the locket you seek has not been lost, but taken by the house.**

“Is there any way for us to find it?” Jaemin asked.

 **Yes,** Ten answered through Jaehyun. **The house enjoys games, it always has. And it will always play fair. If you can solve its puzzles, it will yield the locket to you.**

“But where do we even start?” Jeno asked. “The entire house is full of puzzles, and we haven’t even found Johnny yet.”

 **Johnny cannot be found by just anyone,** Ten tols them. **He died of forsaken love — this is a lovers’ quest. You must select two among you by vote to undertake this deadly challenge.**

**Once you have chosen, make your way to the place where Johnny’s life ended, and he will reveal himself to you, and the house’s puzzle will begin.**

**By returning the locket, his soul will be freed. Please, hurry — I have been lonely all these years without him.**

“Great!” Mark said. “Another deadly challenge! Wasn’t one enough?”

 **My time in this world grows short,** Ten interjected. **But please — hurry. At sunrise, all will be lost.**

At these words, Jaehyun slumped over, the spirit of Ten leaving him.

Silence fell over the group as Taeyong hurried them out of the foyer into the lounge. “I’ll take care of this mess and Jaehyun. You guys take some time to talk before we conduct the vote, okay?”

The moment he shut the doors behind him, Jaemin spoke up. “We can’t send Mark in there again, he just went through hell.”

Nods all around. “I think it should be someone who hasn’t faced death yet,” Jeno said, fairly. “So me, Chenle, Jisung, or Donghyuck.”

“Not me, what the heck?” Donghyuck yelped, frowning. “I was really helpful this time, I solved the painting clue.”

“And I approached Jaehyun, which was scary enough as it is!” Jisung pointed out, pouting. “I don’t want to face a deadly puzzle!”

“None of us want to face a deadly puzzle, Jisung,” Jeno said softly. “But we don’t really have any other choice. Maybe someone will die every time, but if we do nothing, we will all _definitely_ die at sunrise.”

Somber silence fell over the group once more, but before they could discuss any further, Taeyong returned, Jaehyun in tow.

“It is time to conduct the vote,” Taeyong announced. And so the whole process was repeated once again, each of them dropping a name in the hat and returning to their seats.

“The first one to face the deadly lover’s challenge is…” Taeyong withdrew a name from the hat. “Lee Jeno.”

Jeno nodded, forlorn, standing and going to the door. The others looked to him, stricken. Before anyone could say anything, Taeyong was reaching back in the hat.

“Accompanying him is… Zhong Chenle.”

Chenle stood, joining Jeno at the door. “Oh, don’t look so upset. The house plays fair,” he told all of them. “We’ll make sure to solve it in time, and we’ll both come back alive.”

“Be careful,” Mark said. “Playing by the rules is what got Renjun killed.”

Jeno nodded, jaw tight, and he and Chenle left the lounge.

* * *

“The place where Johnny’s life ended… The fountain, then?” Jeno said. Chenle nodded, and they headed to the front of the house. The fountain stood, the marble gleaming in the moonlight. Water cascaded down the sides, clean and fresh.

As they approached, a figure shimmered into view, solidifying as they reached him. Johnny was not trapped like Jungwoo — instead, he looked lost and upset, clutching a piece of paper in his hands.

“I can’t remember, I can’t remember!” He wailed, ghostly tears dripping down his cheeks and falling through the paper.

“What can’t you remember?” Jeno asked kindly.

“Our code, our code!” Johnny told him, eyes never leaving the paper. “We wrote hundreds of letters to each other during the war — at least, until Ten died — and now I cannot remember the code we used to speak to one another. And I lost his locket. Oh, Ten will never forgive me.” A fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks, and Chenle awkwardly patted him on the back.

“Um, I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Chenle said. “You just have to go see him. He told us that he misses you.”

“I can’t, not until I solve the code!” Johnny insisted. He scanned it again, determined. “It will tell me where the locket is, I know it will.”

“Um. Maybe we can take a look at it for you?” Jeno suggested. He wasn't certain Johnny would be willing to part with the paper, but he was sure that this was the puzzle that they were meant to solve, and without it, they wouldn't get very far.

“Oh… All right,” Johnny said, much to Jeno’s surprise. “I’m already late to meeting him, so a few new pairs of eyes can’t hurt.”

With that, he passed the paper over to Jeno.

Sure enough, it seemed like gibberish. He and Chenle shared bewildered glances, but before they could even start to work on the code, the water in the fountain began to boil, a demonic laugh echoing out of its depths as the water ran red with blood.

 _Bring me the locket in thirty minutes,_ the house warned, or _I will surrender it to you myself and take my price — a single life, consumed by the waters. Your time begins now._

Hurriedly, Jeno and Chenle bent over to examine the paper.

_My beloved —_

_TIEDK HRRSE EDHTY TTOHO HILEO._

_You did so love to think outside the box, but this time, try it the opposite way, darling._

_I love you most dearly. I cannot wait to see you again soon._

_With love,  
_ _Ten_

"Think inside the box..." Jeno muttered. 

"Oh! I know this," Chenle said. "I learned this in boy scouts. The groups of words are columns! If we stack them up beside one another, we'll figure out the message!"

"Chenle, you're a genius," Jeno breathed. He got to work immediately stacking the columns mentally, trying to decode the message. “The third tier holds the key?” Jeno looked up at Chenle after a long moment, bewildered. “What is the supposed to mean? Is the locket somewhere on the third floor?”

For a long moment, Chenle was silent, brows furrowed. Suddenly, his expression cleared. “The third tier. It means the third tier of the fountain. That’s where the locket is!”

“I’m sorry, you want to climb the blood fountain? That seems like a terrible plan." Jeno eyed the fountain. The liquid was viscous and dark red, and Jeno got the sinking feeling that it was blood. The third tier of the fountain towered high above their heads, and Jeno knew that in order to get there, they’d have to wade through the probably-blood-but-hopefully-just-red-water to get close enough to reach up and search it. And then their hands will get covered in the stuff.

“Well, would you rather die?” Chenle asked, unimpressed.

“Point taken,” Jeno sighed. “Shall we go together?”

“Sure,” Chenle said. “It’s supposed to be a challenge done by two people, anyway, so it’s probably best not to risk anything by separating. Also, maybe the fountain won’t eat us if both of us step inside of it?”

Apprehensively, Jeno and Chenle took off their shoes and socks, rolled up their pants legs, and carefully stepped inside. It was _definitely_ blood. Jeno tried not to shudder at the feeling of the blood against his skin.

Neither of them could reach it on their own, so Jeno grabbed Chenle around the middle and hoisted him up so he could feel around in the third tier of the fountain. After a long moment Chenle called, “I’ve got it! It’s here!"

Relieved, Jeno let him down and they scrambled out of the fountain. Chenle’s hand was dripping with blood, and the locket itself was coated with it too. But Johnny, watching on the sidelines, didn't seem to care. He snatched the locket from Chenle’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” he breathed. He closes his eyes, clutching the locket close to his heart. _“Thank you.”_

He faded away slowly, and distantly, Jeno thought he could hear Ten’s voice welcoming him home. He smiled at Chenle, but immediately he became suspicious.

“Is the demonic house really going to let us go?”

 _Of course,_ the house laughed. _I am always honest. A rigged game is no fun, now, is it?_

“Well, cool then,” Chenle muttered. “Let’s get out of here as fast as we can before it changes its mind and decides it’s hungry for us next.”

* * *

Their return was marked by cheers all around, and the relief felt by everyone was palpable.

“Not such a deadly test after all, hm?” Donghyuck said, looking pleased as he swings one arm around them both. Jaemin and Jisung grinned widely, and Mark looked ike he was on the verge of relieved tears.

Jeno and Chenle shared a smile. “No, not this time,” Chenle said.

“Okay, let’s hurry,” Jeno said, setting the elation aside. "That’s another owner down. Just three more to go! Does the book say anything new?”


	4. PART FOUR.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim Doyoung, The Vampire.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

It had been years and years since they’d had steady food to eat. The entire land was shrouded in death, the famine taking life after life across the land.

He was growing desperate when he found the house — someplace warm for them all to stay. But no matter how comfortable their new lodgings were, there was still so little food.

The house was kind to them. The library was always open for its newest master, and to try and avoid the pangs of hunger, he read for hours and hours, trying to find a way out of this for himself and his staff.

He tried farming, using the techniques found in a book from the library, but the ground was barren. No matter how many times he left the house to search for food, the markets were barren and the farmers had nothing to sell. The house, despite all its miracles, refused to produce food, and slowly, ever so slowly, the man was driven insane by hunger and guilt at being unable to provide.

One evening, he sat in his library alone, eyes crazed as he pored over book after book, praying that one might reveal itself containing a solution. No answer came.

Furious, the man growled and threw the book across the room, a headache building behind his eyes.

 _You are hungry,_ the house whispered empathetically _. I am too. What do you say we help one another?_

“Yes, because you’ve been so helpful this entire time,” the man bit out.

 _I have finally conceived of a solution,_ the house said. _You are finally hungry enough not to fight it._

Suddenly, the man’s canine’s lengthened, and the hunger turned to thirst. He straightened, eyes turned red, mad with bloodlust.

“Master?” He turned, and there in the doorway stood one of the maids, thin, wide-eyed. He could hear her heartbeat.

For one long moment, he said nothing, the part of him that was still human holding himself still. Then he smiled, close lipped and cold.

“Ah, Sara,” he said. “Come in and close the door, why don’t you?”

She did. The house rumbled, pleased.

She never came back out.

* * *

“Okay,” Jisung said, pulling up the journal. “You guys were right. There’s new writing on the next page. Let’s see…”

The gathered around as Jisung read.

_Kim Doyoung was a proper gentleman until the house took advantage of him during a famine and perverted his nature away from God. He killed his staff, sucking the blood from their bodies dry. I have never met him personally, only heard of him from Jaehyun. Apparently he became so consumed by guilt that he locked himself in the library._

“Well, that’s all he wrote,” Jisung said.

“That’s way less than we got about Johnny,” Jaemin said, frowning. “But it seems simple enough. I assume we have to get him to leave the library.”

“That sounds right,” Mark said. “To the library, then?”

They all nodded, and began to move up the stairs to the library on the second floor. Mark told them that the doors had been bolted ever since he had arrived, and sure enough when they got there, nothing had changed.

“Okay,” Jeno said, rattling the doors a few times. “This is no good. We have to find a key somewhere.”

“Hmm…” Jaemin frowned, looking just above the doorknob. “Hey, guys, check this out.”

There seemed to be a series of numbers scratched into the wood of the door, so they all gathered around to decode them. But no matter what they tried, they seemed to be nonsensical.

“It seems like a dead end,” Jisung lamented. “What do we do?”

“It’s a bible verse!” Mark said, suddenly. “The nineteenth book of the bible, the twelfth chapter, sixth verse. I have a bible on my desk, one second.”

He rushed back down the stairs and returned a moment later with the bible, already flipping through. “Here it is. _The words of the Lord are pure words, like silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times.”_ Mark looked up, frowning. “But what could that mean?”

They looked around, at a loss for a moment, before Jaemin pointed out a silver tea set on one of the side tables. “Seven pieces,” he said. “No way that’s a coincidence.”

It wasn't. They found the key in the smallest teacup, just as silver as the tea set itself, and Donghyuck did the honors. The library door swung open, and they made their way inside.

The library was dark and musty, a fine layer of dust covering everything in sight. Jisung accidentally brushed against a chair, and the dust cloud that flew up made him cough so hard that he disturbed even more dust.

The moonlight shone through the window, illuminating the figure of a man, sitting in an armchair, a book on his lap. Silver chains trailed from his wrists to where they were bolted into the ground, and he sat eerily still and silent.

“Is he asleep?” Jisung whispered.

“No,” Jeno whispered back. “He’s not breathing. He’s dead.”

And then the man opened his eyes.

Jaemin, the one closest to him, yelped and jumps backwards into Donghyuck’s arms. The man smiled, melancholy.

“Ah, hello,” he said. “I am not dead.”

“Clearly,” Chenle said, breathing heavily.

“My name is Kim Doyoung,” the man told them. “I was the third owner of the estate. Or maybe the fourth? I can’t remember. It has been so long.”

“Okay, cool, awesome,” Mark said. “So. How do we free you?”

“Ah.” Kim Doyoung smiled, teeth sharp and white, stained red. “Easy. This is blessed silver.” He rattled his chains. “The keys are in the one place I cannot go due to my own infernal nature. If you can find the key and unlock these chains, I will finally be able to leave this accursed library and be set free.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “Fun. Cool. Promise you won’t eat us the moment we let you go?”

Doyoung smiled again, eyes flashing in the moonlight. “I am not a monster,” he whispered softly. Jaemin shuddered, and they could all feel goosebumps breaking out across their skin. “That was always the house.”

“Okay, but where do we go? The place you can’t because of your infernal nature?” Jaemin frowned. “Some kind of chapel or something? Mark?”

“I don’t know,” Mark said. “To be honest, I haven’t been all over the grounds, or even everywhere in the house. I only know the first floor of the three, and there’s nothing like that. We’ll have to ask Taeyong or Jaehyun. Doyoung?”

Doyoung just shrugged. “I cannot say it, myself,” he told them.

“Great,” Jeno said. “You’re not very helpful, you know that?”

“Yes, I know. I thought I was the one being rescued? I like _you_ , even if you don’t like me,” Doyoung told him. “You’re going to rescue me, aren’t you?”

Jeno shuddered. “Unfortunately, I think we have to.”

“Okay. So we have a few options,” Jisung said.

“Yeah. Ask Taeyong, ask Jaehyun, or start searching for this holy place ourselves,” Donghyuck summarized.

“So… What should we do?”

“Let’s just start on the third floor,” Mark suggested. “It’s the floor I’ve seen the least of, and if too much time passes we can give in and get Taeyong or Jaehyun. It’s not like they’re going anywhere.

“Point taken,” Jaemin said. “Then let’s get going.”

Thankfully, Mark’s hunch was correct, and one of the first few doors they tried sung open to reveal a chapel, complete with pews, including paintings of demonic and angelic battles on the walls.

“So… let’s get searching,” Donghyuck said.

They looked all around, but there wasn't much to be found. Jaemin counted the number of demons and angels in each painting, and found that there were ten demons and two angels. Chenle found the word “ _ECCLESIASTES_ ” scratched into the wall with chicken scratch.

Mark found one half of a scrap of paper that looked like a map, and Jisung found the other. And it’s Donghyuck who finds the two goblets at the front of the room, full to the brim of what could be wine, but looks like blood.

“Jesus, why blood,” Jeno said. Beside him, Chenle groaned.

“Not _again_.”

In the meantime, Mark and Jisung lined the pieces of the map up together, and the paper fused back together into one piece. On the back, the instructions were clear.

_WELCOME TO THE SINNER’S GAUNTLET. PICK TWO AMONG YOU BY VOTE TO FACE THE DEADLY CHALLENGE._

“Well, it’s me and Jisung, then,” Donghyuck said. “No need to vote, it’s only fair. We’re the only ones that haven’t done it.”

Jisung looked like he wanted to disagree, but in the end he only nodded and joined Donghyuck.

Mark handed over the slip of paper just as the words on it began to change. “Good luck,” he said gravely.

Donghyuck nodded, businesslike. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you yet, Mark Lee. If I die, I’ll haunt you every day for the rest of your life.”

Mark sniffled. “Sounds fair.”

Jisung thres his arms around Chenle, giving his best friend a long hug before backing away. “I’ll come back,” he said, voice shaking. “I promise.”

“You’d better,” Chenle whispered. And with that, he and Donghyuck approached the goblets, the others going to sit in the pews, watching anxiously.

 _Welcome,_ the house rumbled, pleased. _To the sinner’s challenge. Please take your places on either side of the table._

Donghyuck went right. Jisung went left. They stopped on opposite sides of the table, and met eyes.

 _The challenge is simple,_ the house declared. _Simply drink everything in your cup. For one of you, it is a death sentence. For the other, you will get the key to Kim Doyoung’s chains. All the liquid must be drunk in order to get the key, and the side that contains the poison has already been decided. It was a simple game of chance. Good luck to you both!_

Jisung swallowed. “No…”

“No!” Mark stood in the pews. “There has to be a way out! That was the agreement! The house plays fair!”

 _This is fair,_ the house snarled. _I am hungry! You have already saved two lives too many!_

“NO!” Mark screamed. “WE HAVE _LOST_ ONE LIFE TOO MANY! If you need to consume someone, let it be me. I’m the one that got Renjun killed!”

“Mark, no!” Donghyuck stopped him. “This is me and Jisung’s challenge. Don’t be a fucking hero.”

“Listen. We have a few options,” Donghyuck said, ever the pragmatist. “The condition is just that all the liquid has to be drunk, not that we both have to drink. I’ll take your goblet, Jisung, pour it into mine, and drink it all. After I’m dead, come get the key. Okay?”

“What the hell, Hyuck? No, it’s not okay! I’ll drink it!”

“NO!” Chenle screamed from the sidelines. “We can’t make a choice like this. It’s better to just leave it up to chance.” He paused. “Please, just leave it up to chance.”

“No,” Donghyuck said. “It has to be the person’s goblet with the key that drinks it. Otherwise, the house won’t yield the key.”

“But there’s no way to determine which side the key is on!” Jaemin yelled.

“Well.”

Donghyuck and Jisung met eyes across the table, and everyone could tell what was about to happen a second before it did.

“Chenle’s right,” Jisung said, voice quiet. “We can’t risk failing now, and I don’t want to decide amongst ourselves who should die.”

Donghyuck swallowed. “Okay,” he said softly. “On the count of three, then?”

Jisung nodded, and they raised their glasses to one another.

“To us,” Donghyuck said.

“To us,” Jisung echoed, so quiet that it was practically a whisper.

They both tipped their drinks down their throats, drinking it all in one go. For a long moment, nothing happened, and then Jisung collapsed, eyes rolling back in his head.

His goblet fell, hitting the flagstones with a clatter. Chenle let out a strangled scream, running up the dais and falling down beside him, tugging at his arm.

"Jisung. Jisung, come on. Wake up. You’re fine, you’re going to be okay. You have to be, you _promised_.” Tears began to fall from Chenle’s eyes as the others gathered around, looking down at Jisung’s prone body with heartbreak and pity. Chenle sobbed, pulling Jisung close to him and burying his face in his chest.

“I have the key,” Donghyuck said, voice hollow, but none of them moved.

It felt hopeless. First they lost Renjun, now Jisung. Who else would they have to lose before escaping this cursed house?

 _I played fair,_ the house says impassively.

Chenle sat straight upright. “No, you didn’t,” he said, clutching Jisung’s body, voice tight. “Worst dinner party _ever_.”

 _You really think so?_ The house mused aloud. _Personally, I think it has been delightful._

“Shut the fuck up,” Jaemin muttered. He knelt down beside Chenle. “Chenle. Chenle, come on. Remember what you said about Renjun?"

Chenle sniffled, wiping away his tears, but he never loosened his grip on Jisung. “He would want us to live,” he said, eyes rimmed with red.

“That’s right,” Jaemin said soothingly, rubbing Chenle’s shoulders. “And Jisung would want the same. You know he would.”

Chenle burst into a fresh wave of tears, but he lay Jisung back on the ground and buried his face into Jaemin's shoulder instead.

“I know,” he said. “It just… It really _sucks.”_

“It does,” Jaemin said. “But we have to go free Doyoung so we can get out of here.”

So they leave. In the empty chapel, Jisung lay with his eyes open and unseeing, staring up at the constellations painted on the ceiling, lips frozen forever in the smallest of knowing smiles.

* * *

“You have lost someone,” Doyoung observed when they return. Donghyuck approached, roughly shoving the key into the lock. The shackles fell from around his wrists.

Doyoung rubbed his wrists. “Aren’t you all going to say something?” he asked.

“There’s nothing to say,” Jeno said. “Jisung traded his life for yours, and he shouldn’t have had to.”

“Jisung,” Doyoung said. He nodded. “I swear that I will not forget his name,” he told them gently. “I owe him my life.”

Chenle seemed to take this especially hard, pearly tears rolling down his cheeks again.

Doyoung approached him, and wiped the tears away. “Young one,” he said. “When you have lived and died as I have, you will learn that death is nothing more than a bridge into something new. You will see your Jisung again one day, I am sure of it.”

“If you see him before me,” Chenle whispered. “Please tell him I’m sorry.”

Doyoung smiled gently, and looked just over Chenle’s shoulder. “He says it’s not your fault, and if he sees you again before you’re ninety eight, he’s going to be really quite upset.”

Chenle’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything more, Doyoung made his way to the door, and stopped on the threshold.

“Good luck,” he told them all, and turned, beginning to fade away just as Jungwoo and Johnny did, leaving nothing behind.


	5. PART FIVE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nakamoto Yuta, The Swordsman.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

The sweat gathered on his brow as he faced off against his opponent. The duke was a worthy adversary, but no matter how skilled he may be, this man knew he was better.

The duke stepped forward with a jab, and elegantly, he was disarmed. The man smiled, tossing his hair from his face.

“Better luck next time,” he said. The duke’s eyes widened with fear, and the man stabbed him through the heart.

Claps echoed through the hall, and the man bowed.

“Very neatly done, sir!” Another gentleman cried out. “But I do not think you could ever beat my champion!”

The man raised a single eyebrow. “I accept your challenge, sir. Bring out your champion.”

The duel started off fairly equally matched, but the man was tired, and slowly, the other began to get the upper hand. Growling, he was pushed back, circling the other man. His hair fell into his face, dripping slick with sweat, and he began, for the first time, to fear for his life.

 _Do not fear,_ the house murmured in his ear. _I will protect you, my champion._

He felt cold metal appear in the hand behind his back, and before he could begin to think, the house took hold of his arm and yelled,

_Shoot!_

It was over in just a few minutes. His opponent lay dead in the center of the room, the walls splattered with the blood of the witnesses.

The house hummed, content.

 _You are indeed my champion_ , it cooed.

Nakamoto Yuta could only stare in horror, the least honorable weapon of them all hanging from his hands.

* * *

They returned to the foyer, and Taeyong brought them cookies. It was a small consolation, but Mark smiled at him weakly nonetheless.

“Alright. Next page,” Jaemin said determinedly.

_Nakamoto Yuta was a great swordsman, renowned throughout the land for his honor and his faith. But quickly, the house used him as a vessel of mass murder, convincing him to invite opponents from far and wide. He spilled their blood on the flagstones, and the house drank it up like water._

_He soon became paranoid and reclusive after the house forced him to go against his honorable nature by using a weapon that cannot be countered. He hid his sword away and refused to leave his study at the top of the house._

“Okay, good,” Jaemin said, shutting the notebook without giving anyone time to say anything. “Up to the top of the house, then.”

They hurried after him, all of them in agreement. It would not do them any good to stop now. Death lingered over their heads, and she was getting impatient.

They climbed the stairs in silence to the very top of the house. A tiny landing led them to a door, and after a long moment of silent debate, Jeno stepped forward and knocked.

It swung open immediately, and there stood Yuta. His hair, long and wild, was braided messily over one shoulder, and his arms were up, pointing a shining silver gun directly in between Jeno’s eyes.

“Whoa!” Jeno jumped backwards, holding his hands up. “Chill, oh my god!”

“What are you doing here?” Yuta hissed. “Come to challenge me to a dishonorable duel?”

“Definitely _not,”_ Jeno stressed. “Please, we’re here to help you!”

Yuta frowned, but he lowered the gun. They let out a collective breath of relief.

“If you want to help me, help me find my sword. The only way to restore my honor is to start afresh, honorable weapon in hand, but the house has hidden my sword from me.”

“Where should we look?” Mark asked him.

“Somewhere on the first floor,” Yuta said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

“Anything else you can tell us?” Jeno asked, desperate.

“I don’t know,” Yuta muttered, avoiding their eyes. “The house won’t tell me about all its secret hidey holes. I haven’t been here long enough.” He paused, thoughtful.

“Someone else might know, though,” he said. Then his face hardened. “Get out, and don’t come back unless you have the sword.”

And then he slammed the door in their faces.

“He seemed lovely,” Donghyuck said sarcastically. Chenle stood beside him, eyes averted, saying nothing.

“I think there’s no way around it this time,” Mark said. “We have to ask Jaehyun and Taeyong. They know the house better than anyone else.”

“Sorry, but hell no,” Jaemin said, grimacing. “I still don’t trust Jaehyun, and he and Taeyong are close, so I don’t particularly trust Taeyong either.”

“So, what, we just start searching blindly on the ground floor?” Jeno frowned. "I understand your reservations, but I don’t think that’s a good option either…”

“I’m sorry Jaemin, but I’m with Mark and Jeno. Maybe Jaehyun and Taeyong will be able to help,” Donghyuck reasoned.

Jaemin sighed. “Fine. But if one of them turns around and stabs us in the back, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

They headed back down to the ground floor to meet Taeyong and Jaehyun there. Jeno approached them first.

“Taeyong,” he said. “We have to find Yuta’s sword. Do you know where it could be?”

For a long moment, Taeyong didn't say anything. He looked nervous, and glanced over at Jaehyun, biting his lip. Jaehyun inclined his head, and Taeyong frowned.

“No,” he said, finally.

“He’s lying,” Jaehyun said calmly.

Taeyong pouted his direction. “Jaehyun,” he whined. Jaehyun looked back, placid. Taeyong sighed. “Fine,” he admitted. “I have an idea, but it’s really not safe for me to tell you.”

“We’re pretty desperate at this point,” Mark said. “Please, Taeyong. We can’t afford to lose anybody else.”

Taeyong sighed, eyes fluttering shut. He seemed to steel himself. “I won’t be able to say much,” he told them. “And the house will retaliate. But I hope from what I’m able to tell you, you’ll be able to find the sword. Are you sure you want me to tell you? Once I give you a hint, I’ll most likely faint from the pain. I won’t be able to help you again,” he warned.

“We’re sure,” Jaemin said, firm and unsympathetic. “It’s get this hint or we die.”

Taeyong nodded. “Okay then. Bookshelf.”

Immediately, he convulsed, eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed. Jaehyun, off to the side, watched impassively as he fell.

“Bookshelf?” Jaemin muttered. “Jeno, come with me to the library. Chenle and Donghyuck, search the study. Mark, take the lounge.” Immediately, the pairs departed, leaving Mark alone with Jaehyun.

He swallowed, looking at Taeyong’s prone body, and turned to leave. A hand on his arm stopped him. Jaehyun’s eyes bore into him, knowing.

“Watch your step,” Jaehyun said, voice low. “The traitor still stands among us.”

“I know,” Mark whispered, pushing his arm away. “Be quieter. You know damn well it’s not safe to talk here.” His eyes darted over to Taeyong once more. He looked back to Jaehyun, stony. “I have a bookshelf to find.”

* * *

“I’m not finding anything you guys,” Jeno despaired. “Like. Literally, nothing.”

“Same here,” Donghyuck said. Chenle nodded, and Mark sighed, rubbing his temples.

“We’re screwed,” he said. “Sunrise is approaching. It’s already after midnight. We don’t have _time_ for this.”

“Fuck,” Jaemin said dully, sinking down onto a couch. “Fuck!”

“I don’t know —” Mark cut himself off suddenly. “Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun stood at the entrance to the library, eyes shifty and shoulders tense. He strode forward, pushing past them to examine the bookcase.

“Time is running short,” he murmured. “Take the road less travelled.” He pressed down on the spine of a book, and the bookcase swung backwards, revealing a hidden room.

“Jaehyun?” Taeyong’s voice called from the hall. Jaehyun’s eyes widened, and he turned back, bringing a single finger to his lips just as Taeyong appeared in the doorway, looking anxious.

“Oh! You managed to find it,” he said, relief palpable. “Good luck. Now, come on Jaehyun. Let’s leave the kids to it. They don’t have a lot of time.”

Taeyong ushered Jaehyun from the room, and he followed willingly. Mark’s eyes followed them out.

“It’s here!” Jaemin called. “In the library!”

They rushed in, and sure enough, the book on the shelf refuses to be dislodged. After a bit of fiddling, some mechanism clicks, and the bookcase swings back, revealing a hidden room.

“Success!” Jaemin grinned. Jeno entered the room first, followed by Mark. Donghyuck followed soon after, but Chenle hung back with Jaemin, still eerily silent. Jaemin smiled sadly at him, and wrapped an arm around him before they entered the antechamber.

It was an ancient hall. Cobwebs spanned the rafters, but it was still beautiful, all wood flooring and paneling.

“This must be where the duels took place,” Jeno said, gaping up at the vaulted ceiling.

“It definitely is,” Chenle said, voice horrified. They turned to him, and he was running his hand along a patch of wood paneling, stained just a bit darker. Jaemin, paling, pulled Chenle away, dragging him into the search for the sword.

The sword did not reveal itself, but Donghyuck found a bible and a set of rosary beads. Jeno found something that might be holy water, and Mark found what appeared to be the instructions for an exorcism.

“Fuck no,” Jaemin said, tightening his grip around Chenle’s shoulder. “I do not fuck with ghosts.”

_Hopefully, you will not have to._

Jaemin glared. “I don’t fuck with demon murder houses either.”

 _The next gauntlet is more challenging,_ the house purred, ignoring Jaemin entirely. _The metal of the sword has been twisted, its honorable nature gone infernal. Two of you must be selected by vote to face and exorcise the cursed metal. One of you shall perform the ceremony. The other will face the blade in battle and try to hold it off long enough to distract the blade from the exorcism. Once it is cleansed, it will clatter to the ground, harmless._

“Back to vote. Again,” Jaemin said, contrite. They didn't even have to leave the room. Taeyong and Jaehyun entered with the hat and the slips of paper, and the voting ceremony commenced.

“Those who will face the exorcism are…” Taeyong drew two names. “Donghyuck and Chenle.”

Utter silence fell. Chenle sighed, stood, and walked out, never looking back.

“What the fuck!” Jaemin burst out. “Who the fuck put his name in to be nominated! He just lost his best friend, and now one of you betrayed him like that?” Jaemin scoffed, shaking his head. “Fuck you guys. Seriously, what the actual fuck.”

“I’m going to go after him,” Donghyuck said after a long moment. He stood, leaving heavy, tense silence in his wake.

* * *

The instructions for the exorcism were surprisingly clear. “Exorcist One” would take up one of the not-possessed swords leaning up against the wall and duel with the sword. Donghyuck, who apparently had taken one fencing lesson, volunteered.

“Exorcist Two” would perform the exorcism. “It’ll be easy, Chenle,” Donghyuck said encouragingly. “Just follow the instructions, read the words, and the metal will be purified. Yeah?”

Chenle nodded wordlessly.

The set-up couldn't begin until the weapon was in the room, but they did have to decide now who should wear the rosary beads.

“According to the instructions, they’re a little bit of protection,” Chenle said quietly. “The only question is, who is the sword going to try and go for?”

“You, obviously. I’m here to defend you, but you’re the one really doing the exorcism. The sword will be coming for you.”

“But the sword’s all about honor,” Chenle countered. “I’ll be unarmed, and you’ll be the one challenging it. It will probably go for you.”

Donghyuck frowned. “I still think you should wear them.”

Chenle frowns right back. “And I think you should!”

 _Decide,_ the house says, impatient, and before Donghyuck could do anything, Chenle forced the rosary beads over his head.

 _The trial begins,_ the house murmurs. The blade materialized and lunged towards Donghyuck viciously. They parried back and forth as Chenle frantically scanned the page, taking salt and beginning to create a massive pentagram around the center of the room, where Donghyuck fought relentlessly with the sword.

“Chenle!” Donghyuck yelped, the sword coming straight towards his chest. Donghyuck tried to parry, but the sword was too fast. At the last moment, it veered away.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed. "The rosary.” He jumped back into battle, keeping the sword focused on him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chenle dashing around, placing candles around the circle.

Donghyuck ducked as the sword goes flew over his head and he screamed. “Chenle, hurry!”

Chenle looked up, fear in his eyes, and started to chant, eyes skimming the paper. “O sancte matris et inferna purgandum gladio ignes!” The sword halted midair and began to shake, smoke pouring off of it in large, heavy clouds. Chenle continued, voice shaking. “Urere impura et profana omnia fiat! Ejus honorem restituere, et libera nos!” Chenle took a deep, shaking breath. “Amen.”

The sword flashed, blinding them both, and then fell to the ground with a clatter. For one long moment, there was silence. Donghyuck stared, frozen, at the sword for one, long moment before turning to Chenle.

Chenle’s eyes were on him, and they were watering, tears about to spill over the edge. He pushed himself up from the ground shakily and launched himself towards Donghyuck, throwing his arms around his neck and burying his face in his shoulder.

“Oh my god,” he said, voice slightly muffled from being buried in Donghyuck’s shirt. “Oh my god. Thank _god_.”

“Chenle.” Donghyuck felt his heart break as he holds the shaking boy in his arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“You nearly weren’t, though,” Chenle despaired.

“But I _am,”_ Donghyuck soothed. “I am. see?”

Chenle pulled back to look at him, tearstained but determined. “Jaemin is right,” he said. “I can’t let what happened to Jisung slow us down. Imagine if I was just a few seconds slower. The sword might have overwhelmed the beads and killed you.” They stand together. “From now on, I’ll try to be more helpful,” he promised Donghyuck. “I won’t let this stupid house eat another one of my best friends.”

“That’s the spirit,” Donghyuck said grimly. He smiled, small. “But really, Chenle. I’m glad you’re back. Now let’s get the sword and get out of here.”

* * *

They decide to take the sword back to Yuta on their own before returning to the group. Yuta’s eyes soften when he swings the door open, and Chenle offers it to him. He takes it, and the grip fits perfectly in his hand.

“Thank you,” he tells them, honestly, genuinely. He turns, bringing the sword up to his hair, and unceremoniously cuts off his own braid. “Honor is regained through sacrifice,” he tells them. “With your help, I am free. You have helped to restore my honor, and for that I will always be grateful. Should you ever need a favor, look up my name.”

“Wait,” Donghyuck said.

Yuta paused, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for asking this of you,” Donghyuck said. “But when you got the house, did you know of the evil lurking inside of it?”

Yuta paused, considering. “No,” he said slowly. “Not at first. It was just… whispers. New… _longings_. Things that before, I would never have dared to contemplate. Dark urges. Visions of death and blood. Desire to be the one to spill it.” He fixed Donghyuck with a look. “But eventually, I did know. The house never hides for long. The duels started just under two weeks after moving in."

Yuta sighed, running a hand through his recently sheared hair. “The house gets to us all. It has footholds in each of you already, and you have only been here one night. The longer one is in the house, the greater its hold on you becomes. You have freed me by severing that connection,” Yuta explained.

“But… none of the other masters of the house seemed evil,” Chenle said, frowning.

“And they were not,” Yuta said, weary. “The house has a foothold. It does not always use it. I always knew I had lost my honor. It tormented me. But it did not stop the house from placing a gun in my hand and pulling the trigger on my behalf.” Yuta’s eyes are stormy. “Beware. Even friend can become foe at a moment’s notice. Now go. You do not have time to waste; there are just a few hours until sunrise.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck whispered, and before their eyes, he faded into nothingness.

Chenle looked at Donghyuck, eyes wide. “That’s not good.”

“No,” Donghyuck agreed, eyes troubled. “No, it is not.”

They met eyes for one, ling moment, and the turned to leave the third floor landing to return to the lounge. 


	6. PART SIX.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon Taeil, The Musician.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

Moon Taeil was a well renowned singer until a scandal threw his career into ruin. With the last of his savings, he purchased the house and moved in, secluding himself from all society.

When the news came that he would be opening his estate for one night only to any who wished to attend, the scandal was long-old news, and thousands flocked to hear him sing.

When they arrived, they heard from the man himself how Moon Taeil loved to sing, and despite everything, he never gave it up. When he was disgraced, it was his only comfort.

But when he opened his mouth to sing that night, the guests did not hear him, but the voice of a siren. The house cackled as they clutched their ears, falling to the ground, dead.

Horrified, Moon Taeil closed his mouth. “What have you done?” he whispered, falling to his knees. The house, finally sated, took the last of his voice away.

 _What have you done,_ Moon Taeil mouthed, and glittering tears fell from his mouth to the marble tiles.

* * *

“Hey, guys,” Donghyuck said. Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark jumped and looked up, eyes full of fear, but they immediately sagged with relief upon seeing Chenle by Donghyuck’s side.

Jaemin stepped forward, embracing Chenle, and in the meantime, Donghyuck pulled Mark aside. “Hey, listen, Mark,” he said. “How long ago did you get this house?”

“Um… I think it’s going to be two weeks in a few days?” Mark said, unsure. “I don’t have the deed yet, though. Why?”

“Nothing,” Donghyuck said, throat dry. “Just… something Yuta said. Now come on, let’s go read the journal."

Jeno was already turning to the next page, starting to read aloud.

_Moon Taeil was a great artist. He loved to sing, never suspecting that the house was changing him all along. It replaced his voice with that of a wretched siren, a sea spirit whose creed is to lure unsuspecting men to their deaths. He stays now in the old music room, unwilling to speak, much less sing._

“Okay,” Chenle said, tugging on Jaemin and Donghyuck’s hands. “Let’s go meet Moon Taeil.”

Taeyong showed them to the music room, standing at their backs as they opened the doors.

The music room was on the edge of the house, large bay windows opening up over the grounds on all sides. At the farthest window there sat a man, eyes blank, gazing out towards the horizon. He didn't even react as they came in. He just stared, unblinkingly, out into the inky black night.

“Mr. Moon,” Mark said, approaching. “Er. Mr. Moon.”

Moon Taeil did not respond, but Mark was not discouraged.

“Mr. Moon, we’re here to free you,” he said. Taeil didn't even blink. Mark sagged, but then Taeil began to hum.

It was a simple tune, five notes, and Mark’s eyes widened.

“Mr. Moon? What song is that? Can it help us?”

Taeil never responded, just humming the same five notes over and over again.

“Okay, this isn’t working,” Jeno said after they’d wasted five minutes listening. “Let’s just start looking.”

They split up to search, but Donghyuck pulled Jaemin with him towards the door. “Jaemin and I are just gonna check the hallway!” he said, and then they were outside.

Taeyong stood there, silent against the wall, but he straightened when he saw them. “Donghyuck? Jaemin?”

“Sorry Taeyong, can you give us a moment?” Donghyuck looked apologetically at him, but Taeyong just smiled pleasantly, nodding, and retreated to the other end of the hall.

“Donghyuck, what’s this about?” Jaemin frowned.

“It’s Mark,” Donghyuck said. Jaemin sighed deeply.

“Come on, Donghyuck. I know you’re suspicious of him, but blaming him for this situation isn’t going to help. He didn’t know.”

“But he _did_ ,” Donghyuck said adamantly, cutting him off. “Yuta told us. In just under two weeks, he knew that the house was controlling him. Mark probably knows too. It doesn’t change that he’s our friend and he’s a good person. But so was Jungwoo. So was Johnny and Yuta and Doyoung and Taeil. The house has control right now. In a moment’s notice, he could become our enemy.”

Jaemin considered it, frowning. “What else did Yuta say?” He asked. “What else is the house capable of? Is it only Mark? Or does it potentially have control over us, too?”

Donghyuck opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Jeno was calling out. “You guys, I found it!”

Jaemin and Donghyuck shared a long glance, and then they were dashing back inside.

“I found this note in the birdcage,” Jeno said, waving it above his head. “Now, let’s see…”

_Though I can sing, I’ve lost my voice.  
_ _I sing because I have no choice.  
I_ _n the courtyard you must look,  
_ _to recover what he took._  
_Dear young seekers, please beware!  
_ _Still a traitor stands right there._

“The courtyard, then,” Mark said, looking relieved. “Finally, a straightforward clue.”

They turned to leave, and Taeyong stood in the doorway, ready to guide them.

Jaemin shot Donghyuck a look, and then grabbed Jeno’s arm. Donghyuck nodded. Good. Now everyone would know.

Taeyong frowned at Jaemin grabbing Jeno so violently, but seemed to cast it aside, turning and leading them through the halls to the courtyard.

The courtyard was eerie in the moonlight, and they quickly spread out to search. Taeyong, to get out of the way of the search, stood beside a towering statue in the center of the courtyard. One arm was open wide, welcoming, but Donghyuck spotted a knife hidden in the other hand, and shivered.

On the other side of the courtyard, he could see Jaemin whispering to Jeno, whose brow furrowed deeper and deeper with every word. Donghyuck felt sorry for him. He knew Jeno had been the most scared of them all this whole time, and learning that one of their friends might be under the control of the evil demon house that has killed both Renjun and Jisung without remorse… it was not a pleasant idea.

He turned back to the courtyard at large. There had to be something here. He began to walk about, scanning the flagstones, looking for some kind of pattern.

He didn't find any. Just a tiny, _tiny_ little phrase etched into a small stone wall, so small he almost missed it.

 _silence is key,_ the tiny letters read. For a moment, Donghyuck frowned, but then he brightened, understanding.

“Everyone! Come here!” They gathered around, and Donghyuck explained. “So I think we all have to stand here in silence."

“Okay,” Jeno said. “Logical. But for how long?”

“As long as it takes,” Donghyuck said, determined.

So they began their vigil. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long — suddenly, one of the stones in front of the statue shifted, moving back.

 _You know the routine,_ the house hissed. _Two must go. Choose now._

Taeyong stepped forward, offering to hold the vote. One by one they voted, and Donghyuck voted once again for Mark.

Taeyong drew two names, and it was Mark and Jeno. Jeno shivered, but he stood resolute anyways.

“I think we should plug our ears before going down there,” Mark said. “The only clue we have says that silence is key, right? And Taeil killed people with his voice.”

“Okay, but I think the clue meant not to break the silence,” Jeno countered. “Maybe it’s a challenge of communication? Like, we can’t speak?”

“No,” Mark stressed, eyes desperate. “We should really plug our ears.”

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes. Why was Mark so adamant? His life was on the line right now, so traitor or not, he had an interest in telling the truth, and he knew the house the best.

But then again, he thought. Mark wasn't at risk. The house still had to trap him to maintain the cycle. Whatever was down there wouldn't kill him. So maybe he was trying to lead them astray. Donghyuck groaned internally. What do they do?

“I suppose taking precautions can’t hurt,” Jeno acquiesced, and Mark visibly relaxed.

“Okay, good,” he said. They went back inside to search around for something to use, but they easily found some wax they could fashion into earplugs, and before they knew it they were back at the open trapdoor with Mark and Jeno ready to descend.

They nodded at one another, silent, and headed down.

It was almost laughably easy. They trekked through the tunnel underground, coming to a room where a music box sits on a table in the center.

Mark put an arm out, holding Jeno back, and entered the room to retrieve the box himself. As he lifted it off the table, Jeno winced, preparing for some kind of retaliation, but… Nothing happened.

Mark rushed out of the room, and Jeno was only too pleased to follow. They ran for dear life until they reached the trapdoor, climbing up and out back into the courtyard. Jeno closed the trapdoor behind him, and only then did they remove their earplugs.

“How did it go?” Donghyuck asked, visibly anxious.

“We got it,” Jeno said. “Mark must’ve been right. With the earplugs in it was like a walk in the park.” He shivered. “A terrifying walk in the park in the dead of night, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin reassured him. “We get it. Ready to take it to Taeil?”

Mark and Jeno nodded, and they headed back in the house, Taeyong following them as they went. Jeno frowned, and almost unthinkingly, he muttered, “Where’s Jaehyun?”

Mark stiffened beside him, but he kept walking. When Jeno snuck a glance at him, his face had gone white with fear, and Jeno started to get really worried. Mark knew more than he was letting on, but Jeno was convinced he wasn't evil like Jaemin and Donghyuck seemed to think. If Mark was scared by Jaehyun’s absence, Jeno thought he really ought to be scared too. But why was Mark scared?

They reached Taeil’s music room in no time, and the music box said only, _Play me._ So Chenle did, and a smooth singing voice poured from the music box. It was obviously Taeil’s voice.

Taeil suddenly moved to stand, eyes wide. “My voice,” he said in awe. Then he turned to them all, eyes wild, and said, “Run!”

“What?” Jaemin was visibly taken aback. “Why?”

But Taeil wasn't looking at him. Instead, he looked Mark’s direction. He stalked forward, growling, and Mark flinched backwards. “You thought by taking away my voice you could silence me?” he hissed.

“What? But…”

Taeil rolled his eyes, and pushed Mark aside. “Not you,” he growled. “ _Him_.”

Lee Taeyong blinked, eyes wide and innocent.

“Taeyong?” Chenle asked, voice nervous. For a long moment, Taeyong just looked bewildered. But then, to their horror, the look slid off of his face, replaced by indifference. He laughed, high and cold, and they backed away.

“Now you’ve done it, Taeil,” he said, voice dangerously soft. “Get out of my sight.”

Taeil stood between Taeyong and the others, resolute, and shook his head. Taeyong sighed, put out. “Shame,” he said, and waved his hand.

Taeil screamed in agony, collapsing to the floor. His figure was engulfed by flames, and in the next moment, he was gone.

Chenle grabbed Donghyuck’s arm, and Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark backed away.

Taeyong laughed again. “Silly children,” he said, softly. “You’re in over your head. There’s no leaving this house.”

“Yes there is!” Jaemin said. “We just have to find the guardian!”

“The guardian?” Taeyong contemplated this, tapping his finger on his chin. “Hm. I suppose. And you know, the house always plays fair. This whole backstabbing thing, it’s not really very fair, now, is it? But none of this has been for the four of you. It has all been for you,” he told Mark. “You have to understand, we must complete the cycle and trap you here. It’s nothing personal, Mark,” Taeyong cooed, stepping forward and patting his cheek. “Still! Playing fair has always been my number one priority. So, Mark Lee, I will give you the chance to save your friends. No saving you, as I’ve mentioned, but your friends? Sure, why not.”

“Hello?” Jeno said. “We’re right here? Don’t we get to help save ourselves?”

“Don’t be _boring,_ Jeno,” Taeyong said, amused. “You’ll play a part. But maybe not the one you hoped for.” He snapped his fingers, and Mark watched in horror as his friends straightened and walked over to stand beside Taeyong.

They cried out as they went, telling Mark it’s not them, help, help, _help_ , and Mark closed his eyes, praying that this was all a really, really bad dream.

“Here are the rules,” Taeyong said. “You know I’m so fond of them. Find the guardian before sunrise, and your friends will be released. Fail, and they will be absorbed into the house staff.” He grinned, teeth unnaturally sharp. “We’ve been needing new help anyway. It’s really a win-win for me.” He shrugged, returning to the rules. "Your friends will be patrolling the house, and they will be armed. Should they see you, they will try their best to kill you. Of course, I’m fair. You’ll be armed as well. If you want to live through one such encounter, you know what you’ll have to do.” Taeyong laughed. “I think that’s about it,” he said. “I’d wish you luck, but I’m afraid I don’t want you to succeed.”

“What? No starting place? No clues?” Mark fumed.

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Boring,” he said. “You already have all the clues you need. Now.” He smiled, teeth sharp and eyes red in the lowlight.

_“Run.”_

He did.


	7. INTERLUDE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Past, and how it matters in the present.

**TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVE.**

Mark Lee stared up at the estate in awe. He looked back down at the paper, and back up at the building again. The solicitor had shown up on his doorstep and handed him this estate.

Mark wasn’t sure why his second cousin twice removed that he had never met in his life thought that he deserved a mansion, but was he going to complain? Absolutely not.

He moved in, and the staff was a little weird to be sure. Taeyong seemed nice, but there’s something…weird about him, and Jaehyun always looks like he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to.

It was almost a week before Jaehyun cornered him. “Listen to me, Mark,” he said. They’re in a hallway Mark’s never been to before, somewhere on the second floor. “The solicitor is going to try to get you to sign the deed today. Whatever you do, don’t.”

“Um. Jaehyun, man, you’re kinda freaking me out here,” Mark said, laughing nervously.

“Good,” Jaehyun said firmly. “You should be. Because you don’t have a second cousin twice removed. The house _chose_ you, and if you sign that deed, it’s a done deal. I won’t be able to do anything.”

“O…kay?” Mark said. He patted Jaehyun’s arm. “If it freaks you out that much, I won’t sign for now. But you have to know how weird you sound right now.”

“That’s okay,” Jaehyun said, visibly relieved. “And listen. This isn’t going to make sense right now, but it will later. Number one, do not trust Taeyong. Number two, look for Sicheng.”

“You’re right,” Mark said. “That makes no sense.”

“Trust me,” Jaehyun said, eyes sad. “It will.”

“You really seem like you don’t want me to be here,” Mark said. “But you’ve lived here for ages, right? Why don’t you just leave?”

Jaehyun just looked sad. “Everything that’s happened in this house is my fault,” he said. “Mine and Sicheng’s. I have to try to fix some of it. But even if I felt no such **obligation,** I still couldn’t leave.” Jaehyun sighed. “That’s how it works.”

“That’s how what works?” Mark asked, bewildered. “Dude, you’re speaking in riddles.”

“It’s the only way I can,” Jaehyun said, visibly frustrated. “It won’t let me tell you. Riddles are a loophole. Just. Please. Be safe.”

And with that, he left, eyes darting nervously around the hallway as he went.

* * *

**ONE YEAR BEFORE THE HOUSE WAS BUILT**

“Sicheng!” Jaehyun grinned, waving across the room to him. Sicheng, ever dignified, snorted into his hand, but beckoned him over anyway.

“How are you, Jaehyun?” Sicheng asked, smiling. “How’s the market.”

“Horrible,” Jaehyun said brightly. “Buying a house right now is a terrible idea. Take it from the son of the housing businessman tycoon, whatever.”

Sicheng just smiled. “But you’re still planning on building one?”

“Of course!” Jaehyun beamed. “A great big mansion out in the middle of nowhere. Doesn’t it sound great?”

“It does,” Sicheng said, smiling wistfully. “So you need my help?”

“Yep!” Jaehyun grinned. “I know Taeyong’s your business partner but the guy freaks me out. I’d much rather have you finding a decent piece of land.”

“Sure thing,” Sicheng said amiably. “I’ll look into it.”

Jaehyun beamed again, brighter. “I knew I could count on you!”

“And you know damn well I’d do anything for you, you opportunist,” Sicheng said mildly. “Anyway. I’ll ask. Same time next week?”

Jaehyun smiled softly. “Sounds good,” he said. “See you tonight? At the dance?”

Sicheng smiled back. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

**IN THE PRESENT**

Mark went to find the journal, and he was not disappointed. Handwriting covered the page, but it wasn't Jungwoo’s familiar cursive. This was clearly someone else.

_If you are reading this, then the others have been freed. Good job. But Jaehyun still remains, and I still remain, trapped._

_We never meant for things to be like this. Taeyong was always opportunistic. It’s what made him a good business partner. But I didn’t know just how dark his heart was. I didn’t know that he’d been a killer the whole time, just waiting until he could stab me in the back. He’s a very good actor._

_The land the house is built upon is cursed. Much bloodshed has happened here. It was the ideal place for Taeyong to undertake his most ambitious plan yet: Summon a demon, bind it to the house, and use it to play games with his victims. At the end of the day, Taeyong is nothing but a serial killer, insane enough to summon a demon on cursed ground._

_It’s a great relationship, really. Taeyong likes killing, the house likes blood. They get along fantastically._

_But to banish the evil, the house must be cleansed, Jaehyun must be freed, and only I know the ritual. We hid it with me._

_I built this house as much as Jaehyun, and no matter how hard the demon and Taeyong may wish it, these walls are mine. They cannot harm me. They cannot harm Jaehyun. But they can keep us trapped._

_Free me, and you will free Jaehyun, and together we can free the house. If you have not yet signed the deed, then perhaps you can be saved too._   
  
_The house always plays fair, but fuck that. We’re getting out of here. Find Jaehyun. He will help you find me._

_Godspeed, new master of the house. I hope that you will be the last._

_Sincerely,_   
_Dong Sicheng_


	8. PART SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jung Jaehyun, The Prisoner.

**YEARS BEFORE THE GUESTS ARRIVED.**

The ballroom was half finished, but it didn’t stop them. They danced through the hall, soft smiles on their faces.

“It’s going to be so gorgeous when it’s complete,” Jaehyun breathed, eyes wandering up to gaze at the vaulted ceiling.

“Indeed,” Sicheng agreed. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Jaehyun loved him all the more.

“It’s because of your hard work,” Jaehyun said. Sicheng rolled his eyes.

“This was a group effort and you know it, Jung Jaehyun. Don’t sell yourself short like that.”

“Sorry,” Jaehyun said. “It’s just…I can’t believe it’s finally real. We’ll get to live here, Sicheng. All alone with nobody to judge.”

“I know,” Sicheng said. “Just a little bit longer.”

They danced as the sun went down over the horizon, until they’re tired from spinning. But they never left, too caught up in the beauty of the house and of one another.

The dance was interrupted by the arrival of Taeyong, heavy books and something else in his hands.

“Oh, hey Taeyong,” Jaehyun said casually, like he and Sicheng hadn’t just jumped apart like one another were on fire. “What’s that?”

“Just plans,” Taeyong said, smiling smoothly. “I thought I’d look them over in here. It’s got a great view of the grounds here, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jaehyun said. “Sicheng and I were just…checking the progress of the room! You know. See what else has to be done!”

Sicheng snickered, but Taeyong seemed to buy it, so Jaehyun dragged him over to the unfinished part of the room.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Taeyong doing… Something. To be honest, it was kinda weird, but Jaehyun was more focused on Sicheng than anything else.

That was his biggest mistake.

When Taeyong started chanting, Jaehyun was extremely unnerved. “Hey, Taeyong? Buddy? What the hell are you doing?”

He and Sicheng tried to make their way over to him, but something blocked their way — a swirling, black something.

“Taeyong!” Sicheng called across to him, and at least that worked. He turned his eyes on them, and they were pitch black. Jaehyun yelped, grabbing Sicheng and jumping back.

“Holy shit! _What the fuck?”_

Taeyong held out a hand, and they turned, where to their horror the house was building itself, the black smoke creeping up and completing the unfinished building.

And then Taeyong turned to them, and Jaehyun felt his heart sink. Sicheng screamed, and the floor opened up, swallowing Sicheng into its depths.

“Well, Jaehyun,” Taeyong said. “Let’s find a use for you. I think you’d make a wonderful housekeeper. Don’t you agree?”

Jaehyun couldn’t do anything, tears slipping down his face as he looked at the place where Sicheng had once stood.

* * *

“Fuck.” Mark put down the notebook. “Okay, if I was Jung Jaehyun, where would I hide?”

“MARK!” Mark heard Jaemin scream just outside the door. “If you’re in here you bastard, you’d better hide, because I’m coming in whether I want to or not!”

_Fuck_. Mark glanced around the room, desperate, and barely managed to throw himself underneath the table to be hidden by the long tablecloth before the door was swinging open and Jaemin was walking through the room.

Mark barely dared to breathe as Jaemin circled the table, but thankfully, he left, shutting the door behind him and going back to screaming his head off at Mark.

He let out a breath of relief. Really, Jaemin was smart for making so much noise. He might not be able to stop himself from looking for Mark, but he _could_ make noise and warn him.

Mark hoped the others were doing the same. He’d been so wrapped up in the notebook that he hadn’t even heard Jaemin’s footsteps coming down the hall.

“Okay,” Mark muttered. “Jaehyun. Where could Jaehyun be? And how will I get there?” He thought about running into one of his friends, and swallowed hard. No. It wouldn't happen. He _would not_ let it.

He thought back. Where would Jaehyun go?

Jaehyun’s room, maybe? Mark frowned. It could be a good place to start. Carefully, Mark slid out from underneath the table. Jaemin had gone, and so he carefully, carefully cracked the door open. Jaemin was indeed nowhere to be seen.

Mark stole out of the room, dashing for the stairs. As he ran, he saw Chenle out patrolling the front lawn. Jeno was in the back, between the house and the greenhouse, beside the pool.

Mark rushed up the stairs to the second floor. He swung into his room first, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He let out a deep breath, and for just a moment, tried to slow the beating of his heart.

But there was no time to waste, so after a quick peek out the door, he dashed down the hall and into what he _thought_ was Jaehyun’s room.

It was definitely not Jaehyun’s room. Instead, it seemed to be some kind of workshop, full of tools and piles of notebooks, all full of chicken scratch. Mark picked one up, and on the inside cover was written, _Jung Jaehyun, builder’s plans. June 1920._

That wass right. Jaehyun must have been the one to build the house. After digging around for a while, he found the notebook with the plans for the house, the one he was in. Who knew, it might be useful later.

He found another notebook. This one looked newer, but more importantly, when he opened the cover, it was addressed to him.

_To Mark Lee._

_If you’re reading this, then the final challenge has begun. I knew Taeyong would try his best to get me out of the way, so I’ve hidden myself away._

_I can’t tell you or anyone else where, or Taeyong could find this note and ruin everything. But I trust that you can find me._

_Find the room by adding the lover’s numbers together, and then use them, starting with the numbers representing the elder, to access the room once you find it._

_I believe in you. I will wait for as long as it takes, and then we will find Sicheng and get out of here. Maybe burn the house down for good measure._

_I am very sorry that I could not tell you sooner. I am sorry I was not strong enough. Two of your friends have died because of me and my weaknesses. I will do my best to make sure none else do._

_Come quickly and carefully. I’ll be waiting._

_Sincerely,_   
_Jung Jaehyun_

Mark scanned the plans written in the notebook, and eventually found a few rooms labelled with different numbers.

The lover’s numbers. Ten and Johnny. Johnny’s number, his age, 25. Ten’s… Mark thought about it for far too long before realizing that the answer was really deceptively easy. Right there in the name.

The room labeled 35 is on the third floor. So another mad dash, then. Mark shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and peeked out the door.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck was standing at the end of the hallway, and looking right at him.

“Fuck,” Mark breathed. Donghyuck started toward him.

“Mark, run,” Donghyuck warned. “I can’t stop myself. You have to go _now_.”

“Follow Jaemin’s example and walk around screaming so I can hear you coming next time!” Mark yelped, scrambling away. 

“I have been, you idiot!” Donghyuck called. “But you don’t want me screaming now! If the others hear then they’ll be forced to come here too!”

“Fuck,” Mark breathed, and Donghyuck was already at the door of the workshop. “So sorry about this, really, but I think it would be best for all of us.”

Just as Donghyuck arrived, Mark grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the room with him. Once they were both past the doorway, he ducked under Donghyuck’s arm and ran back out the door, slamming it and turning the key in the lock.

“Don’t say sorry!” Donghyuck said, sounding absolutely thrilled. “That was brilliant! But still, get going. Looks like I’m being forced to try and find a way to break down the door.”

“Okay,” Mark breathed. “I’m so sorry, Donghyuck. Really, I am. Truly.”

“I know, idiot,” he heard Donghyuck call from inside the room somewhere. “So get going and go fix it!”

“I’ll get you guys out of here,” Mark said. “I promise.” And then he turned and ran.

It was a mad dash up the stairs from there. The floor was not just Yuta’s study as Mark had first thought. At the other side of the landing, there’s a hallway, practically hidden. Without the plans, Mark would never have known it existed.

At the end of it, there’s a locked door. Remembering Jaehyun’s words, Mark knocked as quietly as he could, muttering, “Two, five, one, zero.”

The door swung open, and Jaehyun stood right there, silver candlestick in hand, raised and ready to strike.

“Oh, thank god,” Jaehyun said, and lowered the candlestick. “Come in, come in.”

Mark hurried inside, closing the door behind him.

“Jaehyun,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said. “Now, I’m not sure where Sicheng is, but the last place I saw him was in the Ballroom, so I think that that’s the logical place to start.”

“Okay, yeah,” Mark said. “I really hope he’s there, though, because there isn’t much time until sunrise.”

“He'll be there,” Jaehyun said, determined. “He has to be.”

Before they could say anything else, the sound of Jeno’s voice echoed from down the hall. “Mark! I’m up here! Hide, run, something!”

“There’s nowhere to go!” Mark hissed. But then he relaxed. “But the door, it’s coded.”

“Not anymore,” Jaehyun said grimly. “You broke the seal, and there’s no real lock. We have to decide. Do we hide here, or try to run? And if we run, where to?”

Mark took a deep breath.

“Next door,” Jaehyun offered. “It has a lock.”

“How heavy duty is the door?” Mark asked.

“Pretty heavy,” Jaehyun said after a moment of contemplation. “Why?”

“Because so far my winning method has been shoving my unintentionally murderous friends inside various rooms and locking them in there,” Mark admitted. “That way, we know where they are.”

“I like it,” Jaehyun said. “Plus, they’re out of the way of danger. So, how do you want to do this?”

Jeno’s voice was getting closer and closer, and they were running out of time.

“He’ll have a knife,” Mark said. “Besides which, the moment we put him in the room, he’ll start trying to break out. To reduce the risk, it would be ideal to take the knife from him somehow…”

Jaehyun looked at him. “Listen, I have an idea. But you’re not going to like it.”

“I pretty much hate everything about this situation, so I’ll settle for anything helpful,” Mark said frankly.

Jaehyun held out the silver candlestick in his hand.

Mark sighed. “You’re right,” he said. “I hate it.”

But they had no better plan. So Mark darted out the door, rushing down the hall toward Jeno, who panicked.

“Mark, what the fuck are you _doing!_ You’d better have some sort of plan here, because if I end up killing you I will never forgive myself. _Holy shit!”_

Just before he reached Jeno, he darted into the room next door, and Jeno unwillingly followed.

The room was completely empty, and Mark had never felt more relieved. Even if Jeno woke up, he would be hard pressed getting out of here, especially without a knife.

Jeno bore down on him, knife raised, tears streaming down his face.

“Mark, you fucker,” Jeno whispered. “Why didn’t you run?”

“Jeno,” Mark said sincerely, backing away. “I’m so sorry. This is gonna hurt.”

There was only a moment for Jeno to look at Mark, confused, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the floor. Jaehyun stood behind him, candlestick raised.

“Well,” Mark said, clearing his throat. “That should keep him down for a while.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, grabbing the knife from Jeno’s unconscious hand. “Now let’s get to the Ballroom as fast as possible.”

* * *

The Ballroom is farther away than Mark had hoped, all the way down on the ground floor. Thankfully, Donghyuck seemed to still be trapped when they passed the second floor, and Jaemin was nowhere to be seen on the first.

When they reached the doors of the Ballroom, a lock hung, composed of four digits.

“Okay, what the hell,” Mark muttered, turning the lock over, looking for clues.

“What is it?” Jaehyun whispered. His back was to Mark, watching over the hallway.

“It’s locked,” Mark whispered back. “And I have no clue what the code could be.”

“There has to be a clue,” Jaehyun insisted. “The house plays fair.”

Mark turned it over, and sure enough, engraved in the back of the lock read,

_Digits one and two come from this century._  
_Digit three comes from the place your first friend lost his life.  
_ _And the final digit comes from the place where your second friend took his last breath._

“Oh my god, what the hell? What the _hell.”_ Mark fiddled with the lock, desperate.

“Mark, you have to hurry,” Jaehyun muttered. “We have incoming.”

Mark looked up, and sure enough, Chenle stood at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and terrified as he advanced.

“I got it, I got it!” Mark gasped. "Two zero for the century, and then Renjun and Jisung, the second and fourth person at risk respectively, the code is two zero two four!" He just barely managed to click the last number into place as Chenle approached, eyes shut, tears dripping down his face.

Jaehyun parried one swing of Chenle’s knife and then Mark was pulling the door open and slamming it behind them, leaving Chenle out in the hall.

The Ballroom was beautiful, lined with stained glass windows and delicate archways, and it took Mark’s breath away. Jaehyun smiled wistfully, and walked across the wooden floors to the center of the room.

“Here is where I last saw Sicheng,” Jaehyun said softly, reverently. “I just hope that the summoning will work.”

“Have you tried it before?” Mark asked.

“No,” Jaehyun said sadly. “After Taeyong separated us for the first time, I eventually found him. Together, we found a way to seal this house away. To make things harder for Taeyong by trapping the house in 1920. Sicheng took the only remaining copy of the spell should we ever wish to reverse it, and hid himself in this house, but outside of time. It’s a paradox, in a way. The house only exists in the year 1920, but Sicheng lives in the house in 1921.”

“That’s… ingenious,” Mark said, unsure how to respond.

“It is,” Jaehyun said. “And I’m the only one to know the summoning, and there’s nothing Taeyong can do to get it out of me. I built these walls. They protect me against Taeyong and the demon.”

“Okay then,” Mark said, setting down the two notebooks. “Let’s get to it.”

“The summoning ritual is simple, in the end,” Jaehyun said. “We just have to be in the place where Sicheng vanished,”

“Check,” Mark muttered.

“And we have to have the current master of the house present.” Jaehyun looked at him. “Technically, it’s not you, since you never signed the deed, but the house has still chosen you, so I’m hoping that it counts.”

“You’re _hoping?”_

“Yes,” Jaehyun said. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m at least half sure that the only reason Taeyong allowed you this chance is because he’s never been able to find Sicheng. He’s giving you a shot at it, hoping that you might solve the only little snag in the road for him.”

“Well, then isn’t summoning Sicheng an awful idea?” Mark asked, eyes wide and horrified. “We’re falling right into his hands!”

“He thinks we are,” Jaehyun said sagely, taking a piece of chalk out of his pocket and beginning to draw the summoning circle. “He still thinks you signed the deed.”

“What’s the deal with the deed?” Mark asked.

“The owners of the house have all signed that deed,” Jaehyun explained. “It ties your spirit to the house. It means that you cannot harm it, because if you destroy the house, you will destroy yourself along with it."

“Oh,” Mark said, eternally grateful that he never signed it.

“Now, please take your place on the circle,” Jaehyun said, straightening. Mark did so, and Jaehyun, standing on the other side, began to chant.

It was a strange language. Inhuman. Mark thought he would've recognized it if it was Latin, but it wasn't — it was too harsh, the consonants too strong and the vowels too soft. It felt demonic, and Mark shivered.

The circle, written white in chalk, glowed a warm golden color. There was a flash, and then, standing in the center, was another man.

Jaehyun released a breath and threw himself towards him. He caught Jaehyun in his arms. Mark could see Jaehyun’s face over Sicheng’s shoulder, tears pouring from his eyes, fingers twisted into the fabric of Sicheng’s shirt like he refused to ever let go.

“Sicheng,” Jaehyun breathed. “Oh my god, Sicheng.” His voice broke on his name. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Sicheng said, voice smooth and deep. It was calming. Then he frowned, eyes narrowing and voice tuning to steel. “Now, who are we trying to save?”


	9. THE END.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dong Sicheng, The Guardian.

“Sicheng, Mark Lee. Mark Lee, Sicheng.” Jaehyun smiled between them for a moment before the seriousness of the situation set in once again. “Sicheng, it’s bad. Mark is the sixth person that Taeyong’s trapped here, and he’s already lost two friends. We have to make sure there’s no more.”

Sicheng’s face darkened. “We can do that,” he said.

“What’s the plan?” Mark asked.

Sicheng took a deep breath. “Have you signed the deed?” he asked seriously.

“He hasn’t, love,” Jaehyun hurried to say. At his words, a tiny bit of the tension in Sicheng’s shoulders bled away.

“Good. That changes things. Mark, you don’t have to worry,” Sicheng promised. “We’re going to go to Taeyong and get him to release your friends.”

“You found Sicheng,” Jaehyun said. “So you beat the game. And since you never signed the deed, the house can’t keep you here. As soon as Taeyong releases your friends, take them and run. Sicheng and I will take care of Taeyong.”

“Okay,” Mark said, hesitant. It seemed too easy, and he didn't want to leave without Jaehyun and Sicheng. They, especially Jaehyun, had helped him so much. It felt wrong to abandon them.

“Mark.” Jaehyun smiled reassuringly, obviously having caught on to Mark’s inner conflict. “Don’t worry about us. We know what we have to do, and we’ll do it. Just focus on getting you and your friends out of there. Promise?”

“Yeah, okay.” Mark felt better after Jaehyun’s reassurance. After all, Jaehyun hadn't lied to him once. Surely he and Sicheng would be okay.

“Now there’s no time to waste,” Sicheng said. “To the music room.”

This time, there was no mad dash. Chenle had vanished from behind the door, and Jaemin was nowhere to be seen. If Donghyuck or Jeno had escaped their rooms, then they weren't in the trio’s way.

When they entered the music room, Taeyong sat on the windowsill, an idle smile on his face as he surveyed the grounds. Beside him were Mark’s friends, stoic and unmoving, though Mark could see the fury in their eyes, all directed at Taeyong.

“Remarkable job, Mark Lee,” Taeyong purred, smiling. “Not one casualty. How unfortunate for me. And the house.”

“Lee Taeyong,” Sicheng said, voice strong in the relative silence. “It’s over. Keep your end of the bargain.”

“Sicheng, Sicheng, Sicheng,” Taeyong said, shaking his head as he stands up from the windowsill. “You always saw the best in me. No, I don’t think I will.”

Mark sucked in a breath. _Fuck._ What were they going to do now?

“Give me Mark Lee first,” Taeyong said. “I have to complete the cycle, you know. It’s really only fair. I don’t cheat, but I don’t trust you all not to.”

Mark’s heart sunk in his chest. Jaehyun and Sicheng didn't move, frozen and stoic. “We will not,” Sicheng said. “We are at the disadvantage. Turn the children over. Now.”

"Nope,” Taeyong replied, popping the p.

Sicheng growled, nearly launching himself forward, but he was stopped by Mark’s hand on his chest.

“It’s okay,” Mark said, ever so quietly. “It’s my house. It’s my fault the others are here. I’ll gladly turn myself over if it means that they’ll live.”

Taeyong smiled. “How noble of you. Come over here, then.”

So Mark walked slowly and carefully to Taeyong’s side. True to his word, the moment Mark was beside him, Taeyong snapped his fingers and the house’s connection to the others was broken.

“Mark,” Donghyuck whispered.

“Go,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut so he didn't have to see the pain in their eyes. “Go on, get out of here! I mean it!”

“No,” Jaemin said simply. “Not without you.”

“You guys are so fucking stupid,” Mark said. “We’ve all lost people. I’m just the last one. My life for four? It’s simple math. Get out of here, seriously.”

“There’s a difference now, between… between R-Renjun. And Ji-Jisung.” Chenle stumbled over their names, but he pushed through. “You’re _still alive,_ Mark. And we don’t leave our friends behind until it’s really too late.”

“At least go over to Jaehyun and Sicheng,” Mark pleaded. “Please, you guys. _Please_.”

Jeno frowned and started forwards, but Mark shoved him away towards Jaehyun and Sicheng. “Seriously guys! Go over there at least!”

They reluctantly obeyed, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. Sicheng studied Mark for a long moment, then turned to Jaehyun. They seemed to have some kind of conversation through their eyes before Sicheng turned to face Taeyong again, eyes narrowed.

“I’ll make you one more deal,” Taeyong said. “I’ll leave Mark Lee alive. All you have to do is release the house from time. I think it’s a fair trade.”

“Sorry, Taeyong,” Sicheng said. “No can do.”

“A shame,” Taeyong said, shrugging. He turned on Mark, but as he approached, he suddenly stopped. “Wait…”

“You see, Taeyong,” Sicheng said, almost conversationally. “You can’t control him. _He never signed._ ”

Sicheng lunged forward, knocking Taeyong off his feet. “Run!” he screamed to Mark, and he did. Jaehyun herded them out of the room as Sicheng and Taeyong began to fight in earnest, Taeyong flinging shafts of darkness towards Sicheng, who deflected with what looked like molten gold.

“Jaehyun, what the hell!” Mark shouted as they all ran through the house. “An explanation, please?”

“Taeyong summoned a demon,” Jaehyun panted. The hallway was swimming, the darkness in the walls finally becoming visible and twisting the house beyond recognition. “We figured that given pretty much unlimited time stuck in a house that shouldn’t exist in 1921, Sicheng could probably figure out how to summon an angel.”

“That was an angel?” Jaemin yelped. “You have some serious explaining to do once we get out of here, Mark!”

“It wasn’t an angel, it was Sicheng, using the power of an angel,” Mark tried to explain as they careened around a corner.

“Sicheng, an angel, same difference,” Jaehyun said offhandedly.

“Oh yeah,” Mark said, sighing at the confused looks the other shoot him at Jaehyun’s words. “Sicheng is the guy that was just saving us. Also he and Jaehyun are… dating? In love? I don’t know, but they’re definitely romantically involved.”

“Less talking about how I would die for Sicheng, more running,” Jaehyun insisted. “We’re almost there.”

Sure enough, they were exiting the stairs onto the first floor, and after a short dash through the foyer, they were out on the lawn in front of the house. They dashed down to the house’s gates, and Jaehyun stopped them there.

“Here,” he said. “Just wait… Any moment now…”

They turned back to the house, and as they watched, it suddenly and without warning was engulfed in flames.

“Good fucking riddance,” Jaehyun breathed, and then suddenly Sicheng flashed into existence beside them, accompanied by holy fire.

“I’m sorry, Jaehyun,” Sicheng whispered. “There was no other way.”

“I know,” Jaehyun breathed, and then he looked away from the house into Sicheng’s eyes. “You did everything you could. _We_ did everything we could.”

Suddenly, and with great horror, Mark noticed their forms flickering, starting to fade.

“Wait,” he said.

“No time to waste,” Sicheng interrupted. He gestured towards the gates, and they sprung open. “Go through the gates now, and they’ll take you back to your own time.

“But,” Mark began again.

Sicheng smiled, melancholy. “Mark Lee, you have a good heart,” he said. “But there’s nothing that you can do. Now take your friends, and go.”

Mark felt the tears on his cheeks, hot and burning, but he swallowed them back. He nodded, heart bursting with pity, and grabbed Jeno’s wrist, tugging him away. The others followed.

The last glance he got of Jaehyun and Sicheng was the pair of them, backlit by the blazing fire, lips locked as they quite literally burned away.

* * *

“Mark.” Donghyuck’s voice was quiet. “What… What happened? Why couldn’t Jaehyun and Sicheng come with us?”

The sun iswasjust coming up over the horizon, and they all sat looking at where the house once stood. The hill was grassy, untouched.

“The deed,” Mark said into the long silence. “Once you sign it, your spirit belongs to the house. You can’t harm it without harming yourself.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “They both used to co-own the house. They must have both signed the deed.”

“They burnt the house anyway,” Jeno breathed. “They…”

“They sacrificed themselves for us,” Jaemin said, soft and sad. Mark closed his eyes, tears falling fast and thick as he thought about Jaehyun and Sicheng, of the house built with love and twisted by evil. He thought of Renjun and Jisung, and all the other lives taken by Taeyong and the house.

“I’m going to repeat myself,” Chenle said, “but _worst dinner party ever.”_

“Yeah,” Mark said, wiping a tear away from his eye. “It was. You guys should never let me host again.”

“Trust and believe,” Donghyuck said, voice hollow but trying for sarcastic. “We won’t.”

And they turned their backs on the place where the house once stood, ready to leave the cursed place behind forever.

* * *

**MANY YEARS EARLIER.**

The fire burned so hot that Jaehyun thought he could feel it inside his chest. The tears dripped from his eyes to Sicheng’s cheeks, and he wished, oh, he wished so terribly that he could be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

… Any _when_ else.

His eyes fly open. “Sicheng!” He gasped. “The summoning! Reverse it! Do it like last time, but take us both!”

For a moment, Sicheng looked confused, but then understanding stole across his face, and he smiled, warm.

He threw his arms around Jaehyun, who smiled and leaned into it, hearing Sicheng mutter one last incantation.

* * *

In a house that shouldn’t exist in 1921, two men live all alone. They spend their days in one another’s company, enjoying the solitude of the wide and empty fields surrounding them on all sides.

They tend to their greenhouse, and one smears dirt on the other’s nose with a laugh. They swim in their pool during summertime, and when they kiss, they smile into it, just so incredibly glad to be alive.

They dance for hours on end, spinning underneath a glass ceiling and surrounded by the light from the sinking sun. They cry at night for the people they failed to save, but they try their best to build something new, something beautiful.

It is not a perfect happy ending, but it is theirs, and they would not trade it for anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the story! Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!!! Follow me @sanhascroissant on twt for more content !!!
> 
> Much love,  
> Robin <3


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